


Inept

by fineinthemorning



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe, Amnesia, Angst and Tragedy, Bittersweet Ending, Cannibalism, Child Neglect, Dismemberment, Family Issues, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Growing Up, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Incest, Loss of Control, Multi, Self-Harm, Self-Mutilation, Sibling Incest, Unethical Experimentation, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-09
Updated: 2016-08-05
Packaged: 2018-04-30 17:53:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 52,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5173583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fineinthemorning/pseuds/fineinthemorning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arima takes in a child, Haise, after exterminating his mother, because there's something in him he sees in himself, and if he were to raise him as a human, he could become imperative in the fight against ghouls. Meanwhile, after being unable to produce a child of their own, Koutarou and Akira adopt a son themselves, Hide. The parents decide the children should meet. Friendship blossoms between the two boys but is challenged with the introduction of a certain other half-ghoul Arima takes under his wing. So begins the tragedy that binds the three children together forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is nothing but self-indulgent fluff as inspired by adorable friends on tumblr. I mean, mostly fluff.  
> All of the ages will be as follows:  
> Arima- 26  
> Kaneki- 4  
> Hide- 5  
> Akira- 23  
> Amon- 25

It was not meant for either world, and that was perhaps what spoke to Arima so deeply. He’d done away with the mother, who, upon discovering the tiny life within their meager residence, had likely only been preying upon the smaller humans for need of soft meat to feed her crossbreed child.

The half-breed couldn’t be over four years old. He appeared to be terrified constantly at first, his single kakugan flared throughout much of the day as a testament both to his current oxymoronic existence and the future struggles it would entail.

The child never spoke, but it was clear to Arima that, as far as what he’d read of children, and the little experience he’d had with them, he was no different from any other child; he craved love, was impatient when he was lacking the attention of others- particularly Arima, and he had a completely nonsensical schedule as far as eating and sleeping went. He didn’t eat daily, but when he was hungry, he would always bite Arima gently, just enough to break the skin and taste blood. Arima wondered if it was just a habit the mother had never broken him of or if he was actually mute and that was the only way he would communicate with his mother. Either way, Arima would have to break him of the habit if he was going to actually acclimate him to the real world, or rather, the human one.

And therein lie the real challenge in raising the child; he’d have to raise him to be human- to act and behave as a human child would. The CCG assisted him on the child’s physical needs, but the social needs of the half-ghoul would need to be tended to, and that was where Arima was at a loss.

He’d been taking care of him four months now. Since he didn’t know the child’s name and the child still wouldn’t speak to him, he’d decided to call him Haise; perhaps the child would share his name one day . . Kishou didn’t know Haise’s birthday, either, so for now, he picked a date he enjoyed- one that reminded him of Haise’s disposition- April 2nd.

Haise, once he’d adapted to his new life, had grown to be very affectionate towards Kishou. He also expressed his needs more easily- pointing or even tugging on the investigator’s coat when he wanted something in particular- usually books or drawing supplies. Not quite understanding the development of a child as well he should, Arima would always purchase for him books a bit too difficult and supplies of top quality. It was okay with Haise, though, because he treated everything with respect- as if even the small things- like a canned coffee or a new shirt or a new paintbrush- was a special gift from his adoptive father.

Once Kishou decided he did as much as he could to help Haise, he realized that the next stop would actually be interacting with others his age, so when he heard Amon Koutarou and Mado Akira bickering in the break room, he found his chance.

“Akira, he’s only five. Just give him some time.”

“He has to learn  _now_ , when he’s five, or he’ll never learn, Koutarou! Don’t you get it?”

Kishou walked in, and, without so much as a  _hello_ , cut immediately to his intentions, “You two have a child?”

Amon was tomato red in an instant, and Kishou could see the blush on Mado’s face from the doorway.

“He’s adopted!” They shouted together.

Kishou only blinked. Had he inferred something else with his prior statement? “I have one myself, and I was hoping he might have the opportunity to make a friend. He’s not used to being around people, so sending him to school just yet is out of the question.”

He left out the part where he’d probably never send him to school because of his . . . unique condition. He prided himself on being a good teacher; maybe he wasn’t a parent, but he could certainly teach others. At his young age, he’d already had two pupils.

Akira and Amon stared for a second, apparently equally surprised that  _the_  Arima Kishou was harboring a little  _horror_  back home just as they were.

“I think that’s a good idea.”

“I’m not sure.”                                                                                          

Kishou wondered absently if their timing was planned. They kept speaking at the same time. Is that what married couples were like? He’d never heard Taishi and Aki do that.

Arima slipped a card out and handed it to them, “Please contact me when you decide. I can arrange a date for the two of them to meet. If they work well together, then perhaps the two can meet more frequently.” He’d written his personal cell on the back, but he didn’t verbalize its importance.

Koutarou took the card, still blushing. It felt like a business transaction.

Akira didn’t miss a beat and responded in kind, “We’ll consider it, Arima. I’ll be in contact within the week.”

Arima nodded and left without so much as a word, but he was smiling when he turned his back. He’d tell Haise about the prospect of meeting children his age when he got home and see how he’d take it.

“It would be good for Hide, Akira. He’s still adjusting. We both agreed not to send him to school yet-so-“

Akira bit her lip while he spoke, and finally interrupted him with a huff, “No, you’re right. He needs to have a friend his age.”

She never had one growing up, but she recognized that, at least when she’d let herself admit it, that had actually made a portion of her life rather lonely. Maybe it would improve Hide’s disposition . . . He had smiled a lot at the orphanage, but when they’d brought him home, the sunshine in his smile had all but  disappeared.


	2. Chapter 2

Hide had liked his time at the orphanage. He didn’t have any close friends, no, but everyone together made him happy. He enjoyed playing tag and having food fights and generally having fun with the kids his age and protecting the kids younger than him. That’s why he had been adopted several times, but had always been returned. He smiled and laughed here at the orphanage, and the parents-to-be would find it endearing and warm, but the moment he’d been removed from his environment, he’d shut down. He did the same with Akira and Koutarou. They were nice enough people; usually the people who adopted him were, but, like the people that had adopted and returned him in the past, they had no other children. There was no one there for him to befriend, to protect. He didn’t really understand it, but he wanted someone like- a best friend. That was it. Yeah! He’d never had one. He’d read books and seen movies and always- there was  _always_  a best friend he identified with the most. He wanted someone like that in his life, even if he didn’t quite understand it, but he’d yet to find it.

And now, here with his new parents, they hadn’t even sent him to school. How was he going to meet anyone? He was lonely enough without the friends he’d made at the orphanage, but this was worse.

“Do you think he hates us?” Amon was washing the dishes beside Akira who was standing nearby sipping tea.

“Koutarou, he’s five.”

“He resents us then?”

“I spoke to the house mother, and she said that his current behavior is typical. He apparently has been returned to the orphanage many times.” She was staring at a spot on the wall, leaving the steaming cup below her face to take in the aroma of caramel and chamomile.

Amon was suddenly nervous, “Really?” but he focused on the dishes.

“They should have told us then, sure, but whatever, it doesn’t matter. He’s ours now, so he’s going to have to quit his pouting.”

 _Pouting?_  That sounded a little harsh, but Amon understood what she was trying to say. “So, do you think it would help him to meet Arima’s child?”

“I can’t believe I just heard those two words in the same sentence.” Akira bit her lip again, her arms crossed as she leaned against their kitchen counter, “Yes, I suppose so. It couldn’t hurt. I can’t imagine what a child raised by Arima would be like, though.”

Akira spoke with Arima that evening and a date was arranged. The three would head over to Arima’s apartment. Neither of them had a house just yet, but apparently Arima had quite a bit of space at his place for the _children to play._

<><><> 

A week later, they were all sitting together at the dining room table in Arima Kishou’s condo. Everyone had a meal placed in front of them save for Haise, who had a blue and white striped sippy cup.

Clearly, he hadn’t thought this through.

When they had arrived, the boy had introduced himself, “Hi. My name is Hide. What’s yours?”

Arima had turned suddenly to Akira, some kind of distress briefly in his eyes. He’d never mentioned to them that Haise was mute, so when Haise only hid behind Arima’s leg, he felt guilty for having put Haise in this situation.

Hide had looked up to Arima and then his parents. He didn’t find himself particularly frightening, but in that moment, he felt determined to turn things around. So, instead of letting the awkward moment linger, he made a farting noise with hands and then an exaggerated silly face of disgust, looking over at Amon accusingly.

He was rewarded with a small smile from the strange shy boy with the eyepatch.

Akira playfully hit Amon’s chest, playing along, “Honey, what have I told you about your explosive flatulence?”

“What?”

Arima patted Haise’s head thoughtfully before speaking to Akira, the one who was clearly wearing the pants in the relationship, “I forgot to mention. Haise is mute. He’s very expressive, though. It shouldn’t be a problem.”

Hide didn’t really understand, what they were talking about, his eyes on the tiny smile he’d been able to produce in the other boy.

Now at the dinner table, Arima was wondering what to say in regards to the fact that his adopted son wouldn’t be eating what everyone else was at the dinner table.

Hide was the first to point it out, “Why don’t you eat? Aren’t you hungry?”

Haise understood enough to lie. Arima had taught him he was different and would always be different, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t fit in and adapt to certain situations. Arima spoke from experience. So, when the new adults looked at him, curious and befuddled, and the little boy, Hide, asked if he was hungry, he merely shook his head.

No, he wasn’t hungry.

Arima added, his words aimed at the adults, “He doesn’t eat very often. He is . . . a bit sick so he doesn’t have much of an appetite.”

Hide pointed to his own left eye, “What about this, Mr. Arima? Is he okay?” but then he remembered himself and looked back at the boy, nodding his head, “By the way, I think it’s really cool.”

Haise smiled while a small blush rose to his face.

“He was in an accident.” Arima replied.

Amon studied Hide’s reactions to the boy while Akira kept her eyes on Kishou. There was definitely more to it than that. She wasn’t sure she trusted the Special Class Investigator- the youngest ever on record- with her son’s company just yet. There was something particularly different about little Haise, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

“You got any video games?” Hide asked Haise after stuffing some cheesy hamburger into his mouth.

Haise shook his head.

“Board games?”

Haise shook his head.

“Toys?” hide scrunched his nose. What was with this kid?

Haise turned his head to the side, thoughtful.

“He likes to paint, Hide. Would you like to try?”

“ . . .” Hide didn’t get it. Mr. Arima had said  _paint_ , not color. That sounded weird.

After dinner, at Arima’s suggestion, Haise went into his room, gathered many of his art supplies, and then brought them out to the living room to Hide to draw with him.

Hide agreed, and took a colored pencil- or at least he thought it was; it was pretty oily. He began drawing a monster with black and red eyes. It was big and scary; he’d heard some of the other kids talk about them back at the orphanage-  _ghouls_.

Haise, noticed, watched closely, and immediately began to cry.

Hide was on him in a second, “Hey, what happened?” He looked over him for an injury.

Finding none, he instinctually wiped at the mute boy’s eyes, effectively pulling the boy’s white medical eyepatch to reveal-

“Whaaat?!” His eyes were wide.

Arima was in the room and had scooped up Haise in a second, sure to make sure Haise’s crying face was resting on his shoulder and was facing the back of the room when Arika and Koutarou entered the room.

“What happened, Hide?” Koutarou knelt down to be eye level with the boy.

“The drawing must have scared him,” Arima offered, looking for a way out and grateful that he had found one. He knew that was part of it, but, having lived with Haise only a few months, he had learned that the small child was very thoughtful for a four-year-old. He’d likely attributed the drawing to himself or his mother.

Akira looked hard at Arima, and, for a brief moment, neither of them spoke.

“Let’s go, Hide.”

Hide was crying now, “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t meant to make him cry.”

Koutarou, without thinking, wrapped his arms around the boy and lifted him up, “It’s okay. It’s okay. Of course you didn’t. He knows that.” Hide felt warm inside Amon’s arms and decided he liked Amon maybe just a little bit more than the other ‘fathers’ he’d met so far.

“Let’s try again,” Arima offered quietly while he gently stroked his adopted son’s back. Haise continued crying without stopping, but as Arima offered the comfort, he did bury his face further into his neck.

Noticing how Hide had latched onto Amon, Akira responded carefully, “Sure, please join us next Saturday at our home, Arima. Haise.”

Arima nodded, “I’ll show you the door.”

Akira smiled, “No need, see you then.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shinohara- 41  
> Suzuya- 11

“Do you know why I’ve called you in here?” Shinohara was of the same rank as Arima, but he was his superior for a variety of reasons.

“Yes, sir.” Arima hadn’t acted his age at least for the last decade, but in the face of Shinohara, it was difficult to not feel like there was still much to learn.

“That’s been the third time this month.” Shinohara wasn’t scolding him, but he did appear stern in expression.

“Yes, sir.”

“Something is going on at home?”

Arima didn’t waste time, “The child is in need of a tutor. I’ve gotten him on a normal feeding and sleeping schedule, but his lessons are not working well with-“

Shinohara noticed that Arima referred to him as the child, and called his eating habits a sleeping schedule. “Let me help.” He had been part of the oddly formed committee that had decided Arima Kishou could take in the child, and he wasn’t exactly second-guessing his vote, but he was a bit concerned with Arima’s own development. If the two didn’t grow more human _together_ , then there wouldn’t be help for either of them.

“Sir?”

“I give lessons to my own son, Suzuya, four hours a day- 8 am to noon. That’s why I come in at one.”

“Mr. Shinohara, I-“

“Suzuya would work well with him, I think. They’re similar in some ways actually.” Several ways, but he could detail that to Arima another time as it was necessary later.

Arima assumed he understood, “It’s not that. Their age difference is-“

He was wrong. Shinohara interrupted him, “It would be fine. Give it a chance. The CCG can’t have their top investigator falling asleep in the middle of battle.” He was smiling.

Arima didn’t smile. He took his job seriously- both that of an investigator and a . . . guardian. “Yes, sir.”

“There isn’t anything scheduled for tomorrow, so just come over by eight tomorrow with-“ he was searching for the name.

“-Haise,” Arima offered quickly.

Shinohara was still smiling, attempting to be encouraging, “Haise. You can stay for the lesson, and, if it goes well, you can just drop him off the next day on your way to work.”

“ . . . Yes, sir.” Arima turned to go, but turned back around in the doorway, catching the door just before it shut, “What does Susuya do when you leave him at home?” He wasn’t comfortable with any of this, especially after what had happened with Hide only three days prior, but he couldn’t refuse Shinohara.

“Oh, two days out of the week, he meets with a friend, but usually, he stays home or goes to the zoo.”

“On his own?”

“Yes.” Shinohara didn’t see the problem. Suzuya was eleven.

“Thank you, sir.”

“See you tomorrow, Arima,” Shinohara called after him. This would be good. He’d be able to gauge how Haise had developed since he’d been living with Kishou over the past four months.

<><><> 

“Haise, this is Mr. Shinohara. Do you remember him?” Shinohara kneeled down with a smile.

Haise smiled back. Yes, he could remember him. He was very kind. He was nicer, even, than Arima.

“Hello, Haise, this is Suzuya.”

“Cool eyepatch, Haise.”

Haise only smiled back. Suzuya was nearly twice his age, but there was something about him that told him he wouldn’t hate him; it may have been the scars that traced his arms like x’s or maybe it was his smile that felt accepting and non-judgmental. Whatever it was, he was happy that he was with someone that appeared to be strange- like him.

Shinohara stood up. “He’s still not speaking?”

“No, not yet, but he is very expressive,” Arima repeated what he’d told Akira and Koutarou. Unlike the two of them, Shinohara understood that this was a big improvement.

“Good. Good.”

“Haise, you are going to be my student today. Have you been to school before?”

Haise shook his head. He knew what it was, but he had never attended. He was different, so he couldn’t.

“We have school in the study,” and he looked to Suzuya, “Show him there and find which book is best for him, okay?” Shinohara had several grade levels of textbooks for tutoring, but he assumed Haise was likely going to need to start at the beginning.

Suzuya held out his hand, having no problem with the fact that Haise was shy. The small boy looked up to his guardian and when Arima nodded, he placed his much smaller hand into Suzuya’s. Suzuya closed his fingers around Haise’s and had pulled him into the other room in seconds.

“I had a daughter, actually.”

Arima looked to his superior with a blank expression. Was the man sharing with him? Why?

“When she was ten, she was killed . . . along with my wife.” His eyes softened, “Ghouls.”

Arima didn’t say anything. He always felt like words along the lines of apologizing for someone’s loss were empty, and it was clear that though Shinohara may have begun with the intent to share this for Arima’s benefit, it ended up being for his own instead.

“Suzuya was raised by them, and there is still a lot he is trying to understand. We’ve been together less than a year, but-“

“Shinohara put his hand on his head and bowed it slightly as if pondering what to say next, but with a small shake, he convinced himself out of continuing, “I think the two will get along rather well. You don’t have to worry about Haise being half ghoul with Suzuya. He doesn’t . . .  well . . . he doesn’t harbor a lot of hatred, so you don’t have to worry about-“

“Revenge?”

“Yes.”

Arima understood, but the conversation had left him feeling a little confused about why Shinohara had taken in Suzuya in the first place.

“Would you like to join us, then?”

Arima processed the invitation and shook his head, “If it’s alright, I’d like to stay here in the living room during the lesson to see how he does without me.”

Shinohara nodded and moved on to the study.

<><><> 

Haise relaxed during the lesson, and throughout the lessons, Shinohara realized that he was far above his age level for reading and was already a beginning reader. His knowledge of math was also impressive. He didn’t understand formulas or symbols of addition or subtraction, but he could understand the concepts of less and more. His mother must have been very attentive in his learning, and in their few hours, it was clear that Haise was invested, himself, in understanding as much as he could.

Haise did his best to behave. He was happy, at least, that he wasn’t left behind.

He could smell Arima, and it was nice that he remained close by the whole time.  

<><><> 

The next day, when Arima had left, it had not gone so well.

As soon as Arima had left the building, his phone had rung.

“He’s crying quite a bit. Did you explain to him you’d be leaving and coming back?”

_Crying?_

“No.”

“Please come back up, Arima. He thinks you’ve abandoned him.”

“Right.” The investigator hung up the phone.

Shinohara sighed.

It appeared that Haise wasn’t the only one who needed lessons.


	4. Chapter 4

Arima picked up Haise after work, and before he could even ask, Shinohara began, “It was like any other first day of school. He tried very hard, but he was often in tears while trying to work.”

Haise was putting on his shoes while they spoke. Arima watched him a moment. The tiny half ghoul seemed fine now. He looked back at Shinohara, “Was it too difficult?”

Shinohara smiled knowingly, “He was missing you.” It was clear that this might be a foreign concept to the reaper.

It was. “But-“

“You’re gone nearly every day.” He smile fell and his tone was stern.

Was he inferring what Kishou thought?

“Ghoul or no, Arima. He’s a child first.”

Kishou didn’t know what to say to that, so he left it with a simple, “Yes, sir.” He respected Shinohara, but he wasn’t sure that the man understood his situation. As the CCG’s reaper, he wasn’t exactly treated the same as everyone else. On top of that, Haise wasn’t just _any_ child.

“I’m coming over tomorrow afternoon. I expected more out of you.”

What did that even mean? Kishou only nodded. Haise was waiting for him at the door. The small boy had even put on his own jacket and buttoned it up.

Arima gave Shinohara a nod, “Tomorrow, then.”

<><><><>

The next day, Shinohara opened the door to Haise’s room to see that there was little, if anything, inside that made it such. It was decorated in white and shades of blue. There was simple Swedish-made furniture- a nightstand, a twin sized bed with drawers beneath it and a chest at the foot of his bed. It could have easily just been a guest room.

“Where are his toys?” Shinohara moved to the chest at the end of the bed and flipped the chest open. There was nothing but painting supplies inside.

“He paints,” Arima answered simply.

Shinohara only becomes more worried, but he doesn’t show it on his face aside from a furrowed brow. He does a last sweep with his eyes, glances at the child, currently not wearing an eyepatch, by Arima’s legs, and then looks back to the Special Class Investigator, “Does he have no stuffed toys? His bed looks like it’s never been slept in.”

“Haise sleeps with me in my bed.” Arima added after a beat, “. . . with Mukade-chan.”

“Mukade-chan?” A centipede?

Arima looked down at the four-year-old and spoke in the same monotone, “Haise, show Shinohara-san Mukade-chan.”

The boy nodded and disappeared into the master bedroom.

Shinohara follows Arima back into the living room. Perhaps it was too much to have him take care of the child.

Haise returned a minute later with a very long centipede plush with a red head, black body, and forty tiny legs. It’s so long that it looks like it was meant to be a pillow rather than a child’s toy, but clearly Haise thinks of it more fondly than that.

“Arima- that’s-” Shinohara wouldn’t say that it was unusual. He held his tongue. It was fine that Haise liked bugs.

Shinohara’s inner conflict goes entirely unknown to Arima. Haise hands the centipede to the reaper, “He chose it himself.” Arima handed it back to him and began to wrap the plush toy around and around the four-year-old, “Didn’t you Haise?”

Haise nodded and hugged the plush toy a little tighter, giggling when he falls from from trying to walk.

Shinohara knelt down as Haise freed himself from Mukade-chan’s little legs, “Are you happy here, Haise?” The boy straightened to give Shinohara, his teacher, his full attention, “With Arima-san?”

Haise nodded quickly.

“Do you ever feel sad here?”

Haise shook his head. He felt like he wanted to cry. He didn’t understand why, but these questions were making him sad.

“Alone?”

Again, he shakes his head, but now his eyes are getting glassy.

“Never?”

This time, he nods. A few tears escape.

Arima is getting nervous from the questions as well, “When I’m not present, I have a nanny come in, but she is only here for about seven hours while her daughter is in school. Sometimes Haise is alone after she leaves and before I arrive home.”

The elder stands, “It’s unacceptable. He is four years old. He can’t be left alone. Maybe when he is seven or eight- earliest – 6.” Shinohara leaves Juuzou alone at times, but he is incredibly responsible and has been since he’d taken him in.

Arima squatted down to meet Haise’s glassy eyes, “Understood.”

“Who is the nanny?”

Haise comes forward, and, without words, Arima picks him and he rests his head on Arima’s shoulder. It’s clear in these small gestures that in this short time, Haise has become dependent on Arima in a way that would be impossible to undo.

Arima stood up, and Mukade-chan, still in Haise’s arms, barely graced the living room floor. He answered honestly, “Fueguchi-san? I met her getting coffee once.”

“Getting coffee?”

Was that wrong? Arima offered more information, “I checked all of her references and did a background check. She’s a recently widowed single mother of one. She used to run a daycare in the past. Her husband was a doctor. She takes nanny jobs now so she can focus her attention on her daughter, Hinami.”

“Does she know?” Shinohara doesn’t have to use the word _‘ghoul_ ’. The meaning in his question is there.

“Yes, she does.” Arima had told her. She’d been surprisingly compliant. He’d eavesdropped on them a few times as well. She was always kind to Haise, and Haise acted like he liked her very much.

“And?”

“She can be trusted.”

“If you say so, Arima.”

Arima made his intentions clear, “I want what is best for Haise.”

“Good. That’s good.” Shinohara patted him on his shoulder as he made his way to leave, “That’s good.” He said it a third time. It was true. Arima needed Haise just as much as Haise needed Arima.

<><><><> 

That Saturday, at the three bedroom apartment that Akira and Koutarou now shared with their adopted son, Hide, Kishou and Haise waited nervously at the door.

He hadn’t knocked.

“Haise, don’t be nervous, okay? Just be yourself. Remember not to eat anything, though. I’ll take care of it, so-”

Haise knocked on the door. He had already spent quite a while thinking about this. He wanted to see Hide again. He didn’t understand why Arima seemed upset.

Akira opened the door with a raised eyebrow, “For a Special Class, you have a rather gentle knock. If Hide hadn’t been by the door, we wouldn’t have known you’d arrived.”

Arima hid behind his glasses, “We’re here.” He handed her a small gift, “Thank you for having us.”

Koutarou got up to greet them, and Akira shoved the gift in his hands so she could help Haise out of his coat, “You’re so traditional, Arima. You didn’t need to bring anything. You’re sure you didn’t want lunch?” Akira studied Haise as she interacted with him. There was something different about him, but she assumed it was her own failings in understanding children that made it difficult for her to figure out.

“Yes, thank you. We ate at home.”

Amon looked concerned in Haise’s direction, “So his eye hasn’t healed?” Haise was still wearing the eyepatch, of course. He had to wear it at all times if he was in the presence of anyone other than Arima, Shinohara-sensei, or Fueguchi-san.

“Not yet, no. It will take some time.” That was a lie. Kishou wasn’t sure Haise would ever be rid of it.

“I see.” Amon still appeared concerned but let it go as they all moved into the living room.

“I want to play my new game with you!” Hide pulled Haise over to his Gamestation and handed him a long thin controller with a square black screen on one end.

Hide, having a knack for teaching as he frequently was taking care of the younger ones in the orphanage immediately began explaining to the smaller child how to play, “And then you go like this-wa-cha!” He made a sweeping motion with his whole arm, “And like this-hwa-hi-yah!” He swung his arm, holding the controller, back again.

Arima watched closely and looked at Koutarou to question the game, because Akira was watching Hide with a smile. Hide hadn’t shown that energy since last week.

As Hide went on and the game loaded, Amon tried to reassure Arima of questions he’d never actually voiced, “It’s fruit. They cut fruit.”

Arima’s expression became even more blank, so Koutarou only laughed uncomfortably and promised him, “You’ll see.”

“Ready?” Hide turned to Haise, and, though a bit overwhelmed, Haise nodded. He hoped that making the sounds wasn’t part of the game play.

He understood the second round they played that the sweeping motions were to cut the fruit on the screen. What he didn’t understand is why Hide was much better than him. Even though they appeared to only have one score, which meant they weren’t fighting against one another, it still looked like Hide was contributing a lot more than Haise. Towards the end of the second round, Haise stopped playing altogether. Convinced he was very bad, he sat down and watched as Hide finished the last few seconds.

The adults watched attentively as Hide knelt down to speak to the four-year-old, “Hey, I’m sorry. Do you not like it?”

Haise didn’t say anything, and he didn’t even look at the older boy.

“That’s okay! You like painting, right? We can paint! Akira-san, we’re going to my room!” Hide had asked to have paints last Sunday. After a thorough trip to Tokyu Hands, Hide had been practicing in his room a little every day.

“Haise?” Arima, concerned, called after the child as Hide pulled him away by the arm.

The smaller boy nodded before he disappeared.

“Leave the door open, dear,” called Akira from the couch.

“Okay!” Hide did, and Arima moved to a seat in the living room so that he could see through it.

Koutarou and Akira were watching him. Had their son said something about Haise’s eye? Is that why Amon was asking about it earlier? “I’m not sure he’s ever played video games.”

Akira was looking for answers when she offered, “He must have had a rather sheltered life.”

Arima didn’t say anything.

“Where did he come from?” Koutarou blushed a bit, “I mean, you adopted him from an orphanage or-?”

Arima regarded them both silently. Telling part of the truth wouldn’t hurt, “Adachi-ku. He wasn’t in an orphanage. His mother was killed by a ghoul, and I took him in.”

The air lighted immediately. “We both thought he was _yours_ ,” Akira laughed lightly and Koutarou blushed. “He looks so much like you.”

Arima blinked, “Does he?”

“He does, yes,” she laughed a bit more, seemingly unaffected by Haise’s actual story. Of course, it was only that she knew the pain of losing those you loved to ghouls all too well that she was able to focus on something else.

<><><><> 

In Hide’s bedroom, Hide had laid everything out on the floor for them to paint. He watched quietly as Haise put many greens together on the paper.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” Hide spoke softly.

Haise had heard him, but he continued staring at his paper. He’d formed the greens into what looked like leaves. He looked around for the color black.

“You’re a ghoul, right?”

Haise dropped the tiny black tube and at the other boy, face contorted in fear. He wasn’t scared; he was terrified for his life.

“It’s okay.” Hide reached across and put his hand on Haise’s shoulder. The boy stiffened. “I don’t really care about that stuff. I want to be your friend, okay?” Haise blinked when Hide let go and offered his hand, “I’m Hide.” Hide figured it was best if they just sort of started over from the beginning.

Haise stared at the waiting hand for a long time. He looked at Hide’s gentle smile and then back to his hand again. He was different from Hinami or Juuzou.  He gave a timid, short bow of his head and whispered, “H-Haise.”

“Awesome. You _can_ talk. Cool. So, can you teach me how to paint like that ‘cause- AWESOME!”

Haise nodded with a small smile.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They never go into Arima's room. T-T It is covered in Haise's pictures and there are bug toys on the floor and nightstand. Haise likes bugs. They're unwanted creatures that can do incredible things.  
> And yes, there is an Ikea in Saitama. :p


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> random Furuta chapter because birthday - also, exceedingly intelligent 7 year old  
> ahh, assume a couple of months have passed, enough that Akira trusts Arima with Hide

Nimura didn’t like people.

At the time-honored age of seven, he’d since discovered this.

He was orphaned before he was two. Unlike most orphans though, he knew who his family was. In fact, he saw them rather often. He even interacted with them and had, off and on, all his life. Unlike most orphans, he wanted nothing to do with them, though. Unlike most orphans, he didn’t want a family- not his own or anyone else’s.

Or so he had decided at the ripe age of seven. He hated Matsuri, who was _not_ his brother. He hated Yoshitoki, who was _not_ his father. He hated his dead mother too, though his hatred for her steadily grew less and less as he was introduced to yet another family.

After the sixth family, he decided it would be the last. He ran away.

Furuta was made up. It was a lie. He’d learned by now, at the wise old age of seven, that people liked liars the most. And so, he became a very good liar. No, it wasn’t to please others. As mentioned before, Nimura didn’t like people. No, he became an expert at lying because seven-year-olds couldn’t get anything they wanted on their own. It didn’t really matter what it was. For now, as a seven-year-old, he was little more than helpless. As a runaway, perhaps even more so.

Still, if anything, his experiences had taught him well to adapt. He’d lived on the thin line between the ghoul world and the human world since the beginning. Even if he wasn’t accepted into his original family, their fate seemed to follow him at least in that aspect.

The clown had called him amusing.

The old man had called him clever.

The man in the hat had made use of him.

It was the CCG that seemed to have no feelings for him at all.

He didn’t stand out. He had few talents. He was good at excelling at nothing at all. So, that would be his weapon. He’d blend in. He’d find a place. It didn’t matter who with; if he was a good liar and could become well liked, then everyone would be his ally. He could get whatever he wanted.

Right now, he wanted to know more about the man with the white hair- Kishou Arima. He worked with the person who was not his father. He worked in the Garden, the place Nimura came and went from as he pleased. He had taken in a child, a ghoul from what Nimura could tell by the way the four-year-old interacted with others and seemed to live off of water alone. The eyepatch didn’t quite make sense, but Nimura wasn’t really interested in finding out the story behind it.

Could that be his way in? A four-year-old?

“Haise, look out!” Hide called across the playground as the half-ghoul stepped back and bumped into the much older Nimura who had been balancing on a long yellow bar about a meter tall that went around the swingset for bikes and the like. Nimura fell, sure to let his knee hit the rocks in just the right way to cause blood to bubble up from the wound.

Haise, who had caught the ball, stared down at the seven-year-old with wide eyes. As the blood began to drip in thin rivulets down the boy’s leg and across his knee, Haise felt his eyes begin to water, and soon enough he felt the skin tighten around his single ghoul eye that was safely hidden beneath the white medical eyepatch and he began to cry.

Hide was by him in a second, “Hey, Haise, it’s okay. You didn’t mean to.” Hide was helping up Nimura before the eldest of the three could get a word out, “He didn’t mean to, okay?”

Nimura was laughing, “Ah, I should be more careful. Hey, don’t cry.” Nimura moved closer to Haise as if to comfort him, but before he could reach him, Hide was between them.

“He’s okay, too.” Hide immediately went to wiping away carefully at Haise’s eyes,  “Right, Haise?”

The half-ghoul finished his cry as he nodded, allowing Hide to speak for him as he was too shy to speak to strangers still.

“What’s going on over here?”Arima appeared on cue after witnessing only the aftermath of the fall. Nimura looked up at him with a smile.

“I just fell is all. I’m okay!” Nimura watched the white-haired man observe him thoughtfully beneath the rims of his glasses. He recognized him from the Garden likely, which would certainly work in-

“Furuta-kun, right?” Arima crouched down to look at the bleeding wound, and Nimura noted that his eyes shot to Haise’s single eye as quick as a blink.

Nimura nodded, feigning innocence, “Arima-san?”

“It won’t need stitches. Can-”

“I can walk!” Nimura smiled gleefully up at the adult with the white hair. This was working better than he thought it might. He was being invited over to their home. He wondered how much Arima Kishou actually knew about him. It appeared to be enough that he wasn't exactly well looked after.

“Follow us, then.” It made more sense than leaving the child to get bandages at the nearest convenience store. Arima’s apartment was only two blocks away. Nimura understood the adult’s line of thinking, but he still hadn’t expected Arima to be quite so quick to welcome him.

The runaway watched as the white-haired man ruffled his adopted child’s hair to which the child responded with a smile. Sure, the ghoul was young, but he was still old enough to be sent to the Garden. Nimura wondered why Arima hadn’t sent him there.

Nimura followed behind Arima, “Th-thank you. Really, it’s not-"

“Don’t pretend you have other options.” Arima’s words were plain and unapologetic, and though they were not directed at him, Haise grabbed for Hide’s hand.

Nimura blinked. He _did_ have other options, though. He had plenty. Too many, really. Perhaps Arima Kishou was less perceptive than people gave him credit for.

The children followed after the adult.

“Furuta, right?” Nimura frowned inwardly while he nodded with a happy smile outwardly. It was clear to him that the blonde boy was doing his best to be friendly. His actions were clearly in favor of relaxing Haise as much as possible.

“Furuta Nimura. You are?” he smiled with his eyes closed.

“Hideyoshi Mado, but call me Hide.” Hide continued to smile back even though his smile didn’t quite reach his ears.

“And you must be Haise?” Nimura slowed his pace to match that of the small child and suspected ghoul.

“ . . .” 

Hide shrugged it off and quickly lightened the mood, “Yeah, he’s kind of shy at first. He is allergic to new people.” Furuta and Hide laughed at that while Haise blushed lightly.

Haise held the ball they’d been playing with in his hands and watched the pavement beneath him as he walked.

“Your Dad is really nice, Haise,” Furuta said gently.

Nimura watched as Haise’s blush deepened.

  
This was really too easy.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly adore Fruit-chan, so all of you will just have to deal with that, because he is here to stay. Also, probably the best part of this whole chapter is that I can hear adult Furuta saying the same lines of dialogue as seven-year-old Furuta. OTL

In the apartment, Arima directed Furuta and Haise to the bathroom and had Hide call home to be picked up early. Arima felt relieved that it would be less than ten minutes before Hide would be out of the picture. A child from the Garden wasn’t something to be trifled with for a number of reasons, but he’d prefer not to get Hide involved if he could help it, so having Haise’s best friend out of the picture meant that he could at least keep one child safe from further threat.

It wasn’t that he couldn’t protect Haise; he could. Truthfully, to him, little Furuta posed no threat what-so-ever, but the problem with Furuta, in general, was that he wasn’t just involved with the Garden. Arima actually didn’t know the details, but with a sponsor like Kijima, he was certain that the child was being raised under less than conventional methods.

As soon as Hide was convinced by Arima that Haise would be fine, he agreed to meet his father downstairs. Arima was impressed. Just how intuitive was this child? With him out of the way, Arima made for the bathroom, opening the door to see the two children on the tiled floor below the sink, the first aid kit open and its contents somewhat scattered.

Little Haise’s eyebrows were knit in deep concentration as he tried to lower a band-aid over a knee completely free from wounds.

“Woo-hoo! Hulk band-aid! So cool!” the older boy peeled with laughter.

When Haise realized Arima had arrived, he put the band-aid on Furuta quickly, nearly missing his knee altogether, and then he backed away and began cleaning up the first aid kit.

The adult in the room looked down at the raven haired boy, “Furuta-kun, who sent you here?”

He stopped laughing suddenly and looked up innocently, having to tilt his head all the way back, “No one.”

“If it’s about Haise-” he warned.

“I wanted to learn more about you.” The child smiled, eyes clouded over and dreamy.

“Go to the living room.”

Furuta stood.

“ _Don’t_ leave.” there was an obvious threat in his voice and it made both children shake slightly.

Furuta did a mock salute, but couldn’t muster the will to reply, so he left to wait in the living room.

Now alone with Haise, Arima helped him put away the first-aid kit, including the scattered Avengers band-aids that he had purchased for Haise purely out of enthusiasm before arriving home to realize he’d never get to use them. Once they finished the small task, Arima pulled Haise suddenly into a hug. The boy stiffened slightly before relaxing a moment later.

“Are you okay?”

Haise nodded.

“Do you like Furuta-kun?”

Haise shrugged.

“Is he . . . scary?”

Haise vigorously shook his head ‘no’.

“Okay,” Arima pulled him away so he could look in his single eye, “you change for bed.” He kissed him on the forehead, Haise giggled, and then he ran to his room to change.

Arima put the kit away, stood, and walked into the living room to see the seven-year-old swinging his legs off the side of the sofa. And so Arima’s interrogation continued, “Me? I’m surprised.”

Furuta folded his arms across his puffed out chest as though he were trying to imitate the maturity of an adult, “Well, I mean, it’s a pretty well-known fact he’s a ghoul, right?”

Arima walked in front of him, unimpressed with Furuta’s knowledge of this particular secret, “He is as much a ghoul as you are.”

Furuta dropped his hands and stood up as if it would make him appear more intimidating, “What’s that mean, old man?”

Old man? Arima looked down with a blank expression, “You healed remarkably fast.”

Furuta smirked, “Yeah, they give us special medicine in the Garden.” He rolled his eyes, too, as if to say, ‘ _You work there, so wouldn’t you know?_ ’

“Is that what they’re telling you?” Arima questioned, honestly curious.

Furuta took it as sarcasm, “What do you mean? You’re weird like they say, Arima-san!”

“I’m not sure what the inner workings are of that place; I only go there to train some of them. Still, I wonder how they did it? Or why, exactly . . .” He watched, perplexed, as the boy below him began to become more and more agitated.

“Did what?” The child grit his teeth, “Are you trying to be scary?”

“Naturally? Artificially? You haven’t been there all of your life, so _artificially_?” He found himself suddenly more interested in Furuta Nimura.

“Stop that!” he yelled back.

“You’re smart for your age, Furuta-kun.” Arima knelt to be just below eye level with him, “but it seems you have been tricked." 

“Liar! Liar! Pants on fire!” Furuta pushed him away and ran for the door only to run directly into the four-year-old, both of them falling backwards to the floor. Arima was close enough to only catch Furuta, and as he did, held him down by the shoulders, each hand wrapped around each of his small arms to prevent him from struggling.

Haise sat up, rubbed his forehead, stood, and stared.

The room, for a moment, was silent.

“The same.” Haise spoke thoughtfully as he stared at Furuta’s right eye.

Arima’s eyes were on Haise as he firmly held the other child down, “That’s right, Haise,” he assured him softly, “You’re not the only one.”

Furuta realized then what the boy was staring at and simply _screamed_ as he tried to break free of the reaper, “ _I’m not! Liar! I’m not! I’m not the same as you!_ LIAR! LIAR!”

He exhausted himself while the other two watched quietly. He couldn’t will his kakugan away even though he was so good at it already. Was it because he felt like he was in real danger here with the reaper?

When he seemed to stop, Arima relaxed his grip. “Furuta-kun?”

“I’m not a ghoul!” With a burst of energy, he tried to run. Arima caught him and picked him up off the floor standing so that the boy couldn’t reach the floor even if he tried.

“Let me go! Put me down!” He gasped, tears beginning to fall.

Arima remained oblivious to Furuta’s sincerity but did say, perhaps more for Haise than for him, “You _are_. You are a half ghoul- part human and part ghoul- and that’s . . . _fine_.”

“LIAR!” He tried to bite at Arima’s hands but he was unaffected, “I’m rubber and you’re glue and whatever you say bounces off of me and sticks to you!” He tried to scratch at him but couldn’t reach and was easily dodged.

“Furuta-kun . . .”

Haise just watched, eyes wide in awe and confusion. He’d never seen such a poorly behaved child.

“I’m not! I’m not! I’m not! I’m not! I’m not!”

“You are. Also, you aren’t going anywhere tonight. I’ll contact . . . who is it- Kijima-san? You’re his charge, right?” Arima carried the screaming child about the room as he found his phone and tidied up what had been knocked over in the struggle. It only served to make Furuta feel more and more helpless.  “I’ll contact him and tell him you’re staying here. I’ll cook something for you and Haise to eat. We’ll have a . . . . sleepover.” Arima shrugged to himself.

“I don’t want to! You can’t make me!”

“You will or I’ll tell everyone your secret.” He wouldn’t, but Furuta didn’t know that.

Furuta shut up immediately. He realized he was crying then, too. Stupid. Stupid small body. Stupid weak mind. He couldn’t stop crying and he couldn’t make his eye normal.

Realizing the silence of the boy meant he’d given up, Arima set him down on the sofa gently and dialed Kijima.

Haise crawled slowly up the sofa, cautious because he couldn’t tell if the boy would snap or not. When Furuta ignored him, Haise, very carefully, wrapped his arms around his neck and whispered very softly, “It’s okay. You’re not alone. Don’t cry.”

Stupid child; he was nothing like him!

  
Out of sight from their eyes, Furuta smiled.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just more . . . Furuta. Don't worry- Hide next chapter~

And so, Furuta Nimura soon became a permanent fixture within their small, shared home. He went with Haise to tutoring, much to Shinohara’s surprise, he came back to their apartment each day and spend time with Fueguchi, and, after the first night he skipped out while Arima was asleep, he was shackled to the bed each night until he could be trusted to behave.

Somehow, Arima had taken it upon himself to correct the boy’s behavior, because while he posed very different challenges than Haise did, he was similar to him in a way that no one else was. Arima wasn’t sure if that was important to Haise, but it appeared to be, because already, Haise had become concerned for him.

He was only seven. Arima felt that, even at the age of seven, there was some hope in saving him from a lifetime of lies, loneliness, and death- which was typically the fate of Garden children and likely more-so if they were half-ghouls without a family or a place to call home.

Kijima would not accept it at first, but when Arima promised he’d be _training_ him, himself, Kijima allowed it. The next thing would be to somehow convince Shinohara that this was the best thing for Nimura and, somehow, for Haise. It wouldn’t be an easy argument, but it was most certainly a necessary one. In the meantime, he spent very close attention to how the two interacted with each other- even going so far as bugging the bedroom that was once Haise’s and now Nimura’s.

 

“What do you do for fun, Haise-kun?”

Haise held up the workbook Shinohara had given him.

“You study? That’s so booorrrring.”

Haise closed the book and joined Nimura by the sliding glass door to the balcony, “Want to play?”

Furuta sighed, “Anything other than studying.”

“We could play ‘ _bugs_ ’.”

“What?”

Haise went into Arima’s room and came back with an arm full of little plastic bugs and dropped them to the floor.

“No, thanks.” he frowned and went back to looking out the window, Arima’s threat echoing in his mind. He didn’t want to stay here. It actually wasn’t too terrible, but it was certainly boring. Juuzou was amusing and he had Fueguchi wrapped around his little finger, but Arima and Haise were different. They treated him different, and he hated it. In the week he’d been with him, Haise had defended him and lied for him on two separate occasions- once to Shinohara and once to Arima. And Arima- that stupid adult had put a chain on his foot each night since Wednesday. There had to be laws against that.

He didn’t need to be saved by a four-year-old, and he didn’t need an old man to take care of him, either.

“Omnomnomnomnomnomnom.”

Furuta looked at the child on the floor who was currently making one bug eat another.

Furuta wrinkled his nose, “Hey, they’re the same bug.”

“It’s a katydid.”

“So?”

“They eat each other.”

“You mean cannibalize? They’re cannibals?” Furuta walked over and sat down, cross-legged and curious.

Haise didn’t understand the words the seven-year-old was using, so he tried to explain. He had two rows of the same bug on the carpet in two lines, all facing the same direction. “See?” He pointed to the first row, “They run together. The ones in front eat all the food.”

“Okay,” Furuta nodded, curious, “I get it. There is no food for the ones in back.”

Haise nodded and then made one brown cricket from the back row pounce on one from the front, “The ones in back get hungry. They eat the ones in front.”

Furuta blinked, “That’s awesome.”

Haise smiled.

Then, Furuta, being more aware of his position in the world than Haise was of his, frowned, “That’s called cannibalism, Haise-kun, when you eat your own kind.”

Haise mirrored Furuta’s frown.

“It’s what you do because you’re a half-ghoul. You’re half human, and you _eat_ humans.”

Haise looked like he was about to cry.

“It’s true.  . . . And it is _bad_. _It’s bad to be a cannibal._ ”

Haise shook his head, “But-but you, _too_.”

“I’m not like you!” Furuta suddenly snapped.

Haise felt tears on his face, “I’m not a cunnible.”

“You are!” Furuta yelled back.

“If I ate Nimura-kun-then then I-” Haise never finished his sentence. There was a searing pain in his cheek. He could smell blood and his face stung and burned as the tears rolled down.

“Damn! Stupid kid!” Furuta stood up, angry as he looked at the skin and blood beneath his own fingernails. “You made me do that!”

Haise only cried, a few hiccups escaping him as he managed an apology.

“There goes my life! I can see it flashing before my eyes! So short! Arima-san is going to kill me!” Furuta was furious like he was the night he’d first come over.

Haise only cried harder, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“Ughhh! Shut up!” Furuta hit him again, this time with the back of his hand and it caused the eyepatch to fall off and reveal his left kakugan shedding tears.

He looked at the clock on the wall. Arima would be home likely within the next ten minutes. He had to fix this quickly, but Haise’s wounds weren’t healing and-

“Ugh, stupid kid! Get over here!”

Haise opened his eyes and blinked tears away in order to process the image of Furuta rolling up his left sleeve.

When Haise didn’t move, Furuta crawled across the bugs, grabbed the child by the hair, and shoved him over his arm.

Haise still didn’t move. He didn’t understand what was going on, but he did manage a hiccup and a few more tears.

“Be the katydid, you brat! Don’t you get it?”

Haise turned his head to see Nimura’s face twisted in anguish, his right eye now the same as his own left. He didn’t understand, but he knew what was supposed to happen, so opened his mouth and bit into Nimura’s flesh.

“Ahh, it hurts!” the older child whined.

Haise ripped the flesh away with his teeth. It didn’t taste like what Arima fed him- which was usually sweet. It tasted sweet and spicy at the same time. He swallowed, and when he looked back up at Nimura, the cuts on his cheek were gone. He gave a bloody smile because what he had done had stopped Nimura from screaming and Furuta pushed him away suddenly.

“You disgusting ghoul!” he ran into the bathroom holding his arm and licked at his own small wound until it began to heal. He could wrap it up and it would be gone in a day or so. It wasn’t like Arima would care. Haise was fine, so Arima wouldn’t come after him, and that’s what mattered.

Haise followed after Nimura cautiously; he didn’t want to be hit again. He had already stopped crying, and he didn’t want to start again. Arima would be sad if he saw.

He found Nimura trying to dress his own wound on the floor using the bandages in the first aid kit.

When Furuta saw him, he immediately whined, “Can’t you do anything?!” He stood and wet a dark navy hand towel, sat Haise down, and began to wipe his face free of blood. Haise actually smiled at this action, and when Furuta gave a sigh of defeat, the smaller child finished wrapping his bandage.

They heard the latch on the door click and both immediately began putting away the kit and any evidence of what had happened, Nimura pulling down his sleeve to cover his own wound.

 

“There you two are.” Arima frowned but was hugged by Haise a second later. He ruffled the boy’s white hair, “What did you do today after Ms. Fueguchi left?”

Haise smiled softly, blood on his teeth visible as he spoke, “We played ‘ _bugs’_.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fruit-chan is mean but then he gets a family.

 

It was Saturday and Arima and Amon were left to watch the children. Akira was working on a file and neither of them had anything exactly pressing at the moment, so the two decided to bring the children to the playground that had become their typical spot.

As soon as they met on the sidewalk, arriving precisely at the same time, Amon spotted the black-haired child walking a single pace behind Arima on his right side. The boy looked familiar somehow; he was sure he’d seen him at work at some point but he couldn’t place who he’d seen him with.

Arima noticed Amon’s line of vision and responded with a small request, “Furuta-kun, introduce yourself.”

Hide and Haise ran to hug each other but ended up hitting noses and bursting into fits of laughter instead.

“I’m Furuta Nimura. Pleased to meet you First Class Amon-san.”

Amon crouched down, unsure of what to stay and a bit wide-eyed, and shook the boy’s hand, “Nice to meet you Furuta-kun.”

“Arima-san is  . . . “ Furuta wasn’t sure of what to say next.

“He is currently in my care . . . in place of Kijima-san.” Arima clarified.

Amon stood, laughing genuinely, “You’re amazing, Arima. I can barely keep up with one.”

Arima didn’t know how to respond but instead followed the children into the gated playground.

 

The two adults found their typical shaded park bench and the other three ran off.

“Arima-san, I heard that last Tuesday you trapped the Lemur in a-”

“It wasn’t really-”

Amon laughed, “Don’t be so modest. Tell me how you did it!”

Arima tilted his head and faced the other father, “Well, . . .”

 

“So, he’s not really your Dad, is he?” Furuta followed the other two on the playground up on top of a giant penguin that had a slide going off the side of it. He was clearly speaking to Hide.

Hide didn’t take the bait, “He’s not, but I like him. So, what?” Still, the question didn’t sit well with him. Furuta was already kind of creepy.

Haise was immediately nervous. He wanted Hide to like Furuta and vice-versa. Maybe Furuta would become his brother if he stayed? It would be really bad if they didn’t get along.

“You at least got a mom?”

Haise didn’t understand. From the looks of things, Furuta didn’t have these things either. Maybe he was just pointing out the things that made them similar?

Hide snapped, “Yeah, okay? She’s blonde and pretty and super smart, so what?” But then he shook his head as if trying to forget it, “You’re weird.”

Furuta laughed while the other two simply looked at him funny.

“So, what are we gonna play?” the eldest asked.

“Haise usually decides.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, he’s good at that stuff.” Hide shrugged. Haise was pretty imaginative.

“Oh?”

Haise quietly forfeited his role, “You can pick, Nimura-kun.”

“Me, pick?” he gestured towards himself, “No, that’s okay.”

Haise grabbed for his hand and shook it, along with his arm, as if to encourage him. Hide made a quick face of disgust at the gesture. Nimura saw it, but Haise did not.

Nimura smiled again, “Okay, we’ll play Mega Ultra Rangers.”

“I’ll be the red ranger.”

“I’ll be the red ranger.”

Furuta and Hide faced each other then.

“I’ll be the red ranger. I’m the oldest.” Furuta reasoned calmly.

Hide made another face out of annoyance, this time visible to Haise, “ _I’ll_ be the red ranger. I’m _always_ the red ranger and Haise is _always_ the blue ranger.”

“What’s wrong? I could be the red ranger this time and next week you can be the red ranger.”

Hide huffed in annoyance; it was clear to Haise that something else was bothering him.

Furuta appeared surprised, “Hey, are you mad?”

Hide crossed his arms, “And the red ranger is best friends with the blue ranger, so _I_ have to be the red ranger!”

“Are you saying I can’t be Haise’s friend?” Furuta asked innocently, sure that Haise saw the hurt expression in his eyes.

Haise grew more and more nervous.

“N-No, you just _can’t be red ranger!_ ”

“I’ll be the yellow ranger.” Haise offered quietly between them, growing more and more scared by the second.

Hide turned to him, expression and tone cross, “She’s a girl! You’re the blue ranger!” And then he turned back to Nimura, “And I’m the red ranger! That’s how it has been and will always be that way!”

Nimura covered his face in his hands as if he were actually scared, “You _can’t_ be the red ranger! You don’t have a real mom and dad!”

Hide, eyes furious, pulled his hand back, and punched the older child as hard as could effectively causing Furuta to trip and fall off the side of the slide. Furuta, on his back on the pebbles below, gasped for breath.

“Nimura-kun!” Haise slid down the slide and ran for Arima.

Hide slid down after him and jumped on top of the other child, fists flying into his face.

 

A moment later, Amon was pulling Hide off of the child who had had the wind knocked out of him from the fall. Arima quickly picked the other boy up but said nothing to the state of his health though the way he handled him was certainly gentle.

“I hate you!” Hide cried, tears in his eyes as he stared at the crumpled boy in the reaper’s arms.

Haise was crying, too.

Amon bowed suddenly in apology, “Please excuse us. Is Furuta-kun okay?”

“He’ll be fine,” Arima responded with the nod of his head and without actually checking on the child’s well-being.

“Apologize, Hide!” Amon set him down and pressed gently on his back.

Hide moved quickly out of his grip, “He doesn’t deserve it! I hate him! And he started it!”

“Hide!”

Haise gripped Arima’s pant leg; he’d never seen Hide angry before. He didn’t understand why Nimura had made him so mad.

“Thank you, Amon-san. Perhaps we can try again tomorrow.”

“S-sure.”

“L-later, Hide,” Haise barely whispered.

“Ha-Haise hey,” Hide stared at his friend’s retreating back. He’d scared Haise? Had he? Would he still want to be his friend after he pushed his other friend off of the slide?!

When the other children were a safe distance away, Hide wailed and allowed himself to be picked up and walked home in Amon’s arms.

 

* * *

 

 

That same Saturday night after dinner, Arima asked Furuta and Haise to the coffee table in the living room.

“I need to know what happened on the playground today.”

Furuta crossed his arms, “Hide-kun pushed me off the slide.”

Arima, with a blank expression, looked to Haise, “Is that true?

Haise nodded.

“Haise, why did Hide-kun push Nimura-kun?”

Haise shrugged, “They said mean things to each other.”

“I see.” Arima stood, “Nimura-kun, as the eldest, these two are left under your responsibility when you’re out on the playground. Don’t let this happen again. It’s good that you weren’t hurt.”

Arima handed Haise the remote to the television, “Haise, you can pick what we watch tonight; I’ll be back after I shower.”

Haise nodded and began flipping to the channel that featured animals exclusively.

Furuta didn’t say a word.

_It’s good that you weren’t hurt._

No one had ever said anything like that.

Furuta buried his face in a pillow and Haise patted his head.

The reaper didn’t actually care about him, right? There had to be some other reason. No one actually _cared_ about _him_. That’s not how it worked. He was unwanted. And unloved. And _undeserving_.

Haise’s small fingers moved through his hair as if he were petting a dog.

It felt . . . _nice_.

Furuta sat up suddenly and batted Haise’s hand away only to see the small boy giggle softly.

This place was a prison, and it was messing with his mind.

 

* * *

 

“Come again.” Shinohara stared blankly at the reaper. It was Monday morning, and, after a week of having him live in their home, Arima had decided he wanted Furuta Nimura to stay. The children were in the other room with Juuzou getting ready for the day’s lessons while Shinohara and Arima spoke in the kitchen.

Arima repeated himself, “I would like ownership rights to Furuta Nimura.”

“Yes, but why _‘ownership rights_ ’. He’s a human child- not a _ghoul_. You can’t-” Shinohara stopped his own sentence short as he read the other’s expression “There’s something you know that I don’t.”

Arima admitted what he knew in the simplest way possible, “He’s a half-ghoul, like Haise.”

“You’re sure.” It wasn’t a question. He knew Arima wasn’t one to joke about something like this.

“Yes, I feed him the same. I’ve seen his kakugan, and I’ve witnessed his regenerative abilities . . . “

Shinohara put a hand over his mouth as he digested the information, “He’s from the Garden, isn’t he?”

“He comes and goes. No one raises a fuss. I’ve talked to him about it, and he said ‘ _no one cares what I do_ ’. When I asked if he wanted to return to Kijima, he said, ‘ _yes, ‘cause he let’s me do whatever I want_ ’. The child needs discipline - a home.”

Arima felt confident in his decision, knowing he’d never come to this conclusion if he hadn’t adopted Haise not seven months ago, “I can give him that.”

Shinohara couldn’t believe what he was hearing, so he jumped to the nearest accusation, “You are barely making it by with Haise.”

Arima deflected it, “That’s not true; Haise has made lots of progress in the last two months.” Shinohara couldn’t argue; he completely agreed.

“This boy .  .. Furuta-kun, he is not . . . do you not worry about Haise?” The elder of the two had already witnessed how manipulative the seven-year-old could be.

“He won’t hurt Haise.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“I’ve taken precautions. Shinohara-san, I want . . . Haise to grow up knowing he is not alone.”

“He’s not but-”

“At all-”

“You love him,” and Shinohara laughed.

Arima didn’t understand. Wasn’t he supposed to love Haise? Like his son, right?

“I’ll look into it with Kijima and the others, but I’m not sure he is classified as what you’re claiming he is- not that I think you’re wrong . .  just that there might be more to it than we know. It’s likely best we don’t get ourselves involved, but you seem . . .  rather invested already.” Shinohara shook his head.

“Let me know what I can do to help.”

“Who would have thought?”

“What?”

Shinohara smiled at the irony, “Special Class Arima has a soft spot for children?”

Arima gave a quick thank you, a respectful bow, and then left for work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? There will be a time skip, and I will probably wrap it up. This craziness could go on forever. OTL


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Five Year Time Skip:  
> Haise- 9  
> Hide- 10  
> Nimura- 12  
> Juuzou- 16  
> Touka- 10  
> Shuu- 14

Five years later, Hide and Haise now attended the 5th grade at the same primary school. Nimura had attended their same school the last two years, but when he was to be moved into a new Jr. High school, he opted to going back to being home-schooled and visiting the CCG. It was perhaps more pressure on Arima, who had to schedule and balance his own life with the children’s, but he let Nimura make his own decisions in regards to what motivated him; he had already learned that most of his positive behaviors were motivated in efforts for Haise whereas his negative ones usually involved when he lacked attention from himself or his adopted brother. Chances were, Nimura simply wouldn’t make any progress if he couldn’t be in the presence of one of them; Arima couldn’t be sure if he had brought this upon himself or not.

If the pattern continued, he’d stay out of public school two years, enroll as a senior in Jr. high the year Haise would enroll as an underclassman, and then drop out again two years before enrolling again his final, 12th year. Surely Nimura would be over his attachment by then? Arima hoped that being in a school different from Haise’s (Nimura would spend half-days at the CCG academy before going to various jukus and studying at home) would mean that he’d have time to develop separate from Haise.

Two months into the school year, it was clear that this strategy was working for Haise, who was now nine, but was doing nothing for Nimura, who was now twelve.

This hadn’t always been a problem. Arima had never actually been able to adopt Nimura. Legally, it was determined that Furuta Nimura had been deemed ‘ _property_ ’ of the CCG like one might label a car or a quinque and he could, therefore, be _assigned_ to individuals and nothing more. Arima requested the reassignment of the child from Kijima to himself, and it was approved. He treated him, as much as he could, as he treated Haise, but Nimura was not an easy child to love.

Still, Arima was not one to give up.

Haise changed both of them. Haise taught both of them. Haise, as he grew, even in small ways, showed both of them what it meant to love someone, to care for someone else, and to trust and have faith in someone else.

It was Haise, ultimately, that had slowly brought Nimura around to begin trusting Arima. It was Haise that motivated Nimura to do better. It was Haise that kept Nimura there in their apartment at night without the need for being locked in his room so he couldn’t escape.

Nimura was bitter when he was not with Haise, and he was malicious when he was without both of them, but the moment Arima or Haise was by his side, he’d become someone different. Nimura didn’t see the change in himself as it happened; he felt only that life was better lived with Haise or, begrudgingly, Arima at his side.

Arima was not sure where he’d gone wrong, but he was sure that somewhere along the way Nimura had become dependent on their makeshift family . . . for just about everything.

Haise had grown up spoiling Nimura in every way possible. He nurtured him and showered him in affection, forgiveness, and even gratitude- enough that Nimura was at times still left speechless with how bottomless Haise’s selflessness appeared to be.

Haise was only nine now but had been moved up a grade due to his test scores. He’d been quite relieved as he was very adamant on being in the same class as his best friend, Hide. When at school, Hide and Haise were inseparable, but outside of school, Nimura did everything to come between them.

The relationship between Hide and Nimura hadn’t changed; if anything, it had worsened. The two hated each other, and a majority of the times when Hide got into trouble, it was because he was arguing or fighting with Haise’s brother.

Hide, at the age of ten, had already pretty much gained a reputation for being a trouble-maker and quite often that reputation preceded him with teachers blaming him for things he didn’t do such as bullying some children or starting fights with others. Akira and Koutarou continued to do the best they could. They believed their son as he was quite earnest, but they also took note that Hide needed to get his impulsiveness and anger under control. Even if it seemed to sprout around one person in particular, they felt it best he learn to discipline himself now should he come across others in the future that challenged him. In a way, they were thinking like soldiers and were on the path to teach Hide the same even if that had never been their original intention.

So, Hide went to lessons after school each day- English and Judo. Haise attended piano lessons and a special training class with the CCG. Nimura attended English and the same class as Haise.

By 6:30pm each night, Arima expected his children to be home, and, if he had not texted them previously to detail that he’d be out late on a mission, he would have their dinner on the table and expect a complete rundown of the day’s events. It would always begin with, “Nimura-kun, how was your day?”

 

“Ask Haise first.”

And Arima would oblige, “Haise, how was your day?”

“Good. Hide and I had a chalkboard eraser fight?” Haise set down his fork that currently had raw, red meat skewered on the end so he could gesticulate with both his hands.

“Tch.” Nimura crossed his arms and covered his jealousy with annoyance.

“Oh?” Arima asked he go on.

“Yeah, we were on clean-up duty today. It’s random, so this is the first time we got to go together! It was fun! I came home to clean up. I had to be fast to go to piano lessons. I got to see the pretty student that goes in before me, too. He has the lesson before mine. I kept working on Chopin today- the same one, but I got most of it . . . maybe.” He suddenly became nervous. He didn’t want his father to ask him to play for him later; he’d probably mess up and embarrass himself. "Then I went to class with Nimu-nii. We learned about different ka-kagune. I’m so excited to see Nimu-nii’s! I want to know what mine looks like, too.”

“There is a chance that neither of you will have them.” Arima reasoned.

“Ahh, really?”

“That would suck.” Nimura added.

“Yeah,” Haise agreed.

“They’re for fighting,” Arima said softly.

“So what?!”

“But that’s cool!”

The two boys protested simultaneously and Arima shook his head. If he was being honest with himself, the original purpose in taking Haise in had been to weaponize him for the CCG, but that-that was the furthest thing from his mind now. Furuta appeared to be pushing himself down the path of a soldier, but for the most part, Haise appeared to enjoy creating things far more than destroying them.

Haise turned to his brother with a glowing smile, “Okay, Nimu-nii’s turn.”

Nimura’s lips slowly spread into a smile of his own, “Okay . . . I spent the morning mostly with Juuzou and Hairu  . . . just training and stuff. After that, I did some boring studying, went to English class, and then met Haise for class. Arima-san, Takizawa-sensei wouldn’t tell us when kagune come out.”

Arima was used to this as well. It had been five years and _still_ , Nimura would not call him ‘father’ unless they were in public. It didn’t much make sense to him. He couldn’t place why it mattered if there were other ears to hear or not.

“Takizawa-sensei probably didn’t tell you because he does not know.” Arima reasoned.

“Oh.”

Haise piped in, “Do you know, Papa?”

“No.”

Both of the boys looked disappointed, but it was only a moment before Haise was beaming again, “Nimu-nii, I bet yours will look awesome!”

“You think so? I want wings or something cool like that!” Nimura genuinely laughed.

“Yeah!” Haise laughed.

“I bet yours would be bug-like- you nerd.” The elder boy teased him affectionately.

“Bugs are awesome!” Haise insisted.

“So I hear, nerd!”

“Boys.”

They both looked up.

“Finish your dinner.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fluffiness somewhat this chapter. You can stop reading here and pretend the story is over.  
> Warning: Continue reading at your own risk. Tags updated. It is still fluffy in some places but dark in others.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I could have made chapters 10-11 one chapter, but I got impatient. Whoops. OTL

Tsukiyama Shuu had never paid any attention to the child that came in after him for piano lessons until the day the small boy had scraped his knee.

“Reki-sensei, it’s okay!” Haise protested her even touching his leg when he’d run in fifteen minutes early.

“Nonsense, let me dress it at least.” She had ended Shuu’s lesson five minutes early to tend to it. Shuu watched curiously as something sparked inside him once the scent of blood a touch exotic reached his nostrils.

“You interrupted my lesson,” Shuu turned on the piano bench to face the boy in the next room who, at the moment, refused to look at him. Was that aroma truly coming from him who appeared to be so ordinary?

Without being able to place why, Haise blushed. He rushed here every day just to catch a glimpse of the blue-haired boy and to hear his perfect piano playing. He never actually _wanted_ the boy’s attention. He was kind of scary in a way- not that he was threatening, just that he was different.

“I’m-I’m sorry.” Haise didn’t mean for his words to come out in a whimper. He wasn't really hurt; he juse had been happy to watch the boy from afar.

Their piano teacher returned and began dressing the wound, “Ah, there was a lot more blood for how small the actual cut was, Haise-kun. You’ll be fine.” She put a band-aid over the nearly healed scrape and tossed the alcohol swabs and tissue used to clean the blood away in the wastebasket near where Haise was sitting.

“Tsukiyama-san, we’ll go five minutes over next week," she promised as she closed up the first aid.

“No.” Red eyes glared in Haise's direction.

The piano teacher rolled her eyes. He was a spoiled brat, but he was talented and always practiced, so she gave up quickly, “If we start now-”

“Ok!” He turned on the bench again after shooting Haise a final look of steel. Tsukiyama liked that the smaller boy thought highly of him; that was good because he deserved it. He was good at a great many things, including piano, so he deserved every bit of attention he got.

There was something about the look that reminded Haise of his big brother, and from there, Haise no longer felt so nervous. Haise wasn’t intimidated so much as he was in awe, and, really, having the opportunity to hear the other’s music just made everything all the more worth it.

Tsukiyama was worlds away in terms of talent in comparison to Haise, and, as Haise listened with his eyes closed, he felt himself transported somewhere far more honest and telling than the world he lived in. By the time the music had finished, he was sniffling quietly and wiping at his eyes.

Tsukiyama stood up, patted him on the head, and said in a voice more befitting of a flirt than a threat, “That’s why you don’t interrupt a master when he is honing his craft. Come on time next time.”

Haise looked up into the red eyes of the jr. high student and only blushed more. He didn’t even know what to say. He felt a chill, but he also felt very happy.

“See you, Reki-sensei!” the blue-haired boy slung his school bag over his shoulder and waved his hand as he walked out.

The teacher sighed at the other's dramatics before turning to her younger pupil. “Come along, Haise. Start with your warm-up.”

Outside, the Tsukiyama heir opened his hand to reveal a crumpled tissue with scarlet colored stains. He put it to his nose and inhaled. With a shiver, he managed a single word, “Dolce.”

 

* * *

  

At the dinner table that day, Nimura stabbed at his food, “Ugh, why do you keep calling him pretty? You like boys or something?” Nimura had set the table and fed them today. He was in charge when Arima didn’t come home . . . which was beginning to become more frequent. Either there were more ghouls or less staff to handle them. At least it showed that Arima trusted him. Nimura had no problem with the responsibility of taking care of his brother. In fact, he rather enjoyed it, and he enjoyed life best when it was just himself and Haise.

Haise wrinkled his nose, “No, but he _is_ pretty. Pretty things should be called pretty and that’s what he is. He’s _pretty_!”

“I bet he isn’t any more talented than you, anyway. What is he, like, _fourteen_? You’ll be even better than him when you’re fourteen.” Nimura wasn’t actually angry, but he was a bit jealous. He continued to eat, his eyes never leaving Haise for more than a second.

Haise got shy suddenly, “I don’t know. _Maybe._ ” He was skeptical. Tsukiyama was really, really good.

His brother assured him, “Of course you will be.”

“You’re always so nice to me, Nimu-nii,” Haise said with a smile.

“What? No, I’m not. I’m just being honest. In five years, you’ll be _twice_ as good as him!”

Haise laughed.

When they finished dinner, Nimura began cleaning immediately. Arima liked to keep things clean, but it was Nimura and Haise that were usually the ones to do it. They were never annoyed by it though, and Haise even found joy in it. 

“I’ll go start the bath!” Haise offered.

“Thanks!”

 

Before they entered the bath, Nimura took great care in washing Haise’s hair. He’d been so happy when it had started turning black, and now that it was a full head of black hair, he was sure they looked even more like siblings now.

Nimura blew at the bubbles on top of Haise’s head and they fell in front of him, “I love your hair.” Nimura returned to massaging his scalp.

Haise allowed his older brother to fawn over him like so; he seemed happiest when it was just the two of them and seeing Nimura happy made Haise happy, too. “Why do you think it was white before?”

Nimura wondered a moment, but not because he didn’t have any ideas; he was wondering if it would be the right thing to share them or not. He had to keep reminding himself that Haise was only nine. “I’m not really sure,” he treaded carefully, “but some people say it is possible if you experience something really sad or frightening.”

“Oh . . .” Haise couldn’t really remember life back then very well. “Papa said he found me after my mother died.”

Nimura dumped water over Haise’s head, “It could have been that?” He added, “It’s black now, though, so that must mean you’re better.”

Haise turned his head and smiled at his brother, “Yeah!”

“Do you want dessert tonight, Haise?” Nimura never called him his little brother and he never used honorifics with him any longer either. Just Haise.

Haise was thoughtful a moment before he nodded, “Yes please, Nimu-nii.” He smiled and appeared eager from the offer.

They rinsed off and moved into the bath. Without words, they moved into position as they had done so many times before. Furuta leaned back against the edge of the tub. Haise moved closer, his mouth hovered just between Nimura’s right shoulder and his neck. The older boy slid a gentle hand into his soft black hair and pressed Haise’s lips to his skin. Haise opened his mouth wide and let his teeth sink into flesh, his kakugan craking into view as he tasted blood.

Nimura smiled at the pain. He'd give Haise anything he wanted as long as it meant they'd remain together.

 

* * *

 

The next day, Nimura skipped his English class to see this _pretty_ boy entirely out of curiosity . . . and jealousy.

He wouldn’t admit it to Haise, but he’d admit to himself that, sure, the cerulean haired boy was attractive for a boy. His look, with those red eyes, was very distinct and unique. He was a bit haughty, but he was certainly talented on the piano. Nimura was about to leave his hiding spot outside from which he was spying when Haise appeared. Nimura watched as Haise went in and the two exchanged words that resulted in a smile brighter than the sun from Haise. He watched through the window as Haise walked into the piano room.

Tsukiyama, however, did not leave, and instead went to a different room inside the house to study.

Odd.

Nimura, feeling equal amounts suspicious and protective, stayed where he was. Was this his first case as an investigator? He shook his head at the thought. He wasn’t that interested in following in the footsteps of Arima or even his own father for that matter. The only reason he participated in training and practiced with the CCG was because he never wanted anyone to protect him. It was disgusting. He’d never owe anyone anything, and he’d never depend on others, either . . . as soon as he could help it. There was no stopping Arima, really. He really seemed to like Nimura, actually, much to Nimura’s surprise.

The fifty minutes flew by and he watched as Haise met Tsukiyama in the room he’d been studying in. A moment later, Nimura’s phone went off and the text read, ‘ _xtra hour with Reki-sensei! I’ll see you at home._ ’

Nimura shoved the small phone back in his pocket and refused to even respond to the text. Haise was _lying_ to him. He watched as a black limo drove up and Tsukiyama and Haise walked outside together. Then, he watched in horror as Tsukiyama led his little brother to sit inside the limo, the door closing behind the boys with a slam.

He grit his teeth and walked out of the hiding space.

No, this was _unacceptable_. _No one_ could take Haise from him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your comments and feedback! I get very excited! Thanks!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't proofread this so apology in advance. Also, this chapter is almost cute.

“Hide!” Nimura spotted the blonde coming up the side street beside the house on his bike.

“Ugh, _you_. What do you want?” His expression immediately went sour. He had come to give Haise a ride to the CCG as he did on occasion if he got out of English lessons on time. What he was not expecting was Furuta, Haise’s brother, to be waiting there in the yard.

“Lemme borrow your bike.”

“What? No.” Hide shook his head as he hopped off.

Furuta stomped his foot into the lawn and narrowed his eyes as he gestured, “I gotta follow that limo.”

“On _my_ bike? Without me? No way.” Hide turned his head and eyed the older boy suspiciously. He was never intimidated by Furuta, but he was constantly cautious of him.

Furuta crossed his arms as his voice grew haughty, “Haise’s in there; he might be in trouble.”

Hide’s eyes went wide as he hopped onto his bike, “Haise?! Why didn’t you say so?! Get on!” There were feet pedals on the back tire for a passenger to stand.

Furuta wrinkled his nose, “Shouldn’t I be the one-?”

“Shut up and get on!” It wasn’t just a matter of saving time for the fifth grader, though; it was also a matter of pride. A moment later and they were in pursuit of the slow moving white limo.

“Why’d he get in a limo?”

Furuta grit his teeth at the memory, “That pretty boy-”

“Tsukiyama-san?” Haise had told Hide of his piano playing as well.

Furuta was eager to have someone else on his side, even if that someone was Hide, “Yeah, he took him!”

“He’s weird, but you’re way more sus-”

“Pedal faster, brat!” Furuta impatiently tapped Hide’s shoulder a little too hard.

It caused the fifth grader to swerve slightly, “Stay still!”

 

 

“Here is fine. Thank you, Matsumae. I’ll let you know when I’m finished.” Tsukiyama had them stop in front of a coffee shop. It wasn’t the first time he’d lured someone here with the promise of his company and some kind of sweet treat. Matsumae knew he enjoyed his hunt best alone.

“Of course, Shuu-sama.” Matsumae stopped the limo and opened the door for the boys to get out.

Tsukiyama pulled the younger child along, “Let’s go, Haise-kun.”

Haise observed the driver as he got out; she was very pretty and seemed to respect Tsukiyama a lot. It just sort of made sense that Tsukiyama came from a rich family.

“This is the cafe you wanted to show me? With the pretty cake?” Haise could not eat cake, but his brother had taught him to pretend. Apparently the prettier it was, the better tasting it was supposed to be.

“Yes, I own it, so we can enter from the back here.” Tsukiyama led him halfway around the building to an unassuming door on the side that he opened with a key.

“You own it?” Haise couldn’t imagine owning a whole cafe. If he owned a cafe he and his brother could eat at, he’d be so fat!

“Yes. Come inside, won’t you?” Haise followed him in to a plain looking room with a single curtainless window. There was a hallway that connected to the kitchen and there were stairs that led to the second floor.

“Tell me, Haise-kun, what about me fascinates you?”

Still, the nine-year-old didn’t find the question strange at all and he followed the ghoul to a single table set for two that had red camellias in a vase at its center, “Your  piano playing . . .  is very honest . . . It sounds like it comes from a world where people don’t die.”

Tsukiyama laughed, “Where people don’t die?” He began to head towards the kitchen as he spoke, “There is no world such as this.”

Haise returned the laughter with equal mirth, “Maybe that’s why I like your piano so much!”

“You’re an odd one, Haise-kun.” He returned from the kitchen with a tray of two slices of cake and two small coffees and set them in front of Haise and himself.

“Am I really odd?” His father had warned him against it.

Tsukiyama sat down and picked up his own coffee cup, “Yes, but you smell . . . divine.”

Haise, relieved that he was being served something he could actually consume, picked up his own small cup and took a sip. ‘What’s _divine_?”

“God like, Haise-kun.”

Haise felt his eyelids grow heavy, “Like god?” He fell out of his chair, passed out.

Tsukiyama smiled, “Like how you will taste! Dolce!” He picked the child up with ease and carried him up the stairs.

Furuta and Hide had seen most of it from the single window. Furuta kicked at the cement of the building wall in frustration, “That jerk drugged my brother! He’s going to die!”

Hide had never seen the older boy so angry, so he stepped back nervously, “F-Furuta-kun?”

Nimura punched through the glass of the window, bloodying his hand completely.

“Furuta-kun!”

“I’m saving my brother! Do what you want!” He shattered the rest of the glass, effectively getting some of it stuck in his own skin and he crawled through the window. Hide, seeing no other choice, did the same. He was quickly putting together in his mind that Tsukiyama must be a ghoul if he wanted to taste Haise, but he’d never heard of ghouls eating other ghouls. Maybe, once he learned that Haise was also a ghoul, or at least half, then he wouldn’t eat him? Still, it was a bad situation and Hide needed his best friend to be safe regardless.

Once inside, the two ran up the stairs to find an open space with only a wooden chair of which Haise was sitting in, his hands tied behind his back. Tsukiyama was working at tying his body to the back of the back of the chair when Nimura ran for him in a blind rage. Quite expertly, the fourteen-year-old actually dodged the crazed one running at him, but what he hadn’t expected was the one behind him. Hide immediately got him quickly into a judo hold despite the other’s body being much bigger than his.

“You r-rat!” But Tsukiyama’s strength was that of a ghoul, so he broke the human’s grip and threw him hard against the far wall from which Hide fell two meters to the unforgiving floor.

Nimura wouldn’t admit he was impressed with Hide for trying, but in a fight among ghouls, there was no room for the pathetic weakness of a human. Glad the human appeared to be knocked out, Nimura cooled his own rage to face his now annoyed opponent. He saw Haise had slumped forward and fallen awkwardly from the chair in the scurry.

“You are going to die today,” he promised.

Tsukiyama revealed his black and red eyes and let his koukaku slide majestically forward and wrap around his arm, “That scent in the air is yours?” He gestured towards Furuta’s bloodied hand, “It’s equally divine! Transcendance!” He lunged forward, grinning, seeing only what delicious meals would be served to him in the near future.

Furuta hated fighting. In fact, he wasn’t a good fighter at all. If he ever did train with the others in combat, it was only to avoid being put through the pain of losing. So, in the years he’d been in and out of the Garden, he’d gotten very good at  . . . dodging.

“Sit still!” Tsukiyama noticed that his opponent hadn’t gotten a single hit in, but even though he was on the offensive, he couldn’t land a single hit himself.

“Nii-”

Nimura turned his head to look back at Haise and that’s when the ghoul found his opening, hitting the other hard enough that it would have cracked the spine of any normal human. Instead, Nimura landed on top of his brother, heaving as he felt something shift and crack at the base of his spine.

Nimura was on his hands and knees over Haise as his bikaku unfolded with an eerie cracking sound- two wide skeletal tails that looked like wings unfolding emerged from his frame, “You won’t take him from me!”

Tsukiyama’s mouth hung open as his eyes fell upon the single kakugan, “You-you’re a One-Eyed Ghoul?!”

Hide, who had been pretending to be passed out, opened his eyes only a split second to see. He’d thought so for the longest time, but only now was he seeing it. That meant that both Haise and Nimura were half-ghouls. Insane. Were they really brothers? Haise’s hair was growing black. Or was Arima just collecting them?

He noticed also that Haise was stirring awake. Hide knew he could not fight in this battle; he’d just end up broken in half without a weapon of some sort. But if it were Haise and Nimura against Tsukiyama, then it would hopefully end quickly. If not, he had the element of surprise he could spring on Tsukiyama at any time just in case.

“Shut up!” Furuta felt the appendages that had erupted from his back. He was even less human now. But if it could save Haise . . . The wings cracked as they moved, sounding like bones snapping. He could move them separately, too. The way they folded in, Furuta realized quickly that they could operate more like skeletal hands than wings.

“Degoutant!” Tsukiyama greatly disapproved of the kagune; the sound alone was nightmarish.

Still on all fours over the slowly waking Haise, Nimura grabbed the chair with his left kagune and threw it at Tsukiyama, but just as the ghoul cut through it, Nimura’s right kagune had reached and wrapped around him like a giant’s hand squeezing a child. Nimura stood, stepping over Haise, and squeezed harder wondering absently if the fourteen-year-old’s pretty little head would pop off and roll across the floor.

“Basta! Basta!” Tsukiyama began to cry from the pain as he felt his bones begin to break.

“Nimu-nii?” Haise groggily stood up behind his brother.

“Haise?” Furuta, deathly calm, continued to squeeze the life out of the cerulean-haired ghoul.

Haise looked from Tsukiyama to Nimura to Hide to Nimura again. “Nimu-nii, stop!”

“But he hurt you.” Nimura reasoned.

Haise protested vehemently, “He’s not bad! Let him go!”

“No!” He squeezed harder and the Tsukyiama heir screamed, “He could hurt you again! He’s a _ghoul_! He can’t-”

Haise went silent for several seconds, his eyes scanning the space between them for the answer. “If you kill him, I will _never_ call you my brother again!” He'd found it.

Nimura nearly choked, “What!? Haise, he was going to _eat_ you!”

“But he didn’t and he hasn’t.” Haise’s expression appeared well beyond his years.

“Because I saved you!”

“No, he won’t-” Haise walked the short distance to where the piano player the pleaded with his eyes for it to stop. He studied how the blood pooled below him as bones protruded in several places across his body.

“Haise?” Furuta didn’t understand why Haise cared about anything other than those who actually loved him.

“You won’t, will you? Because we’re special.” He revealed his own single kakugan to Tsukiyama.

“Special?” Tsukiyama's eyes were half-lidded in distant wonder.

“Will you?” Haise asked with a smile.

“No, I won’t.” Tsukyiama promised, barely understanding what was happening.

“There, he said it. Let him-”

Furuta gripped his kagune harder and Tsukyiama screamed again.

“Nimura-nii-stop! Stop, he’s going to die! I’ll never forgive you! I’ll never forgive you!” Haise pulled at the cerulean haired ghoul that was trapped in the skeletal clutches of Nimura’s bikaku, “Hey, don’t die. Hey!”

_I'll never forgive you._

And Furuta gave in, his grip loosening until Haise caught the mangled body of the ghoul and laid him down gently on the floor. Without thinking, Haise bit into his own flesh, ripped away at his own arm, and put his mouth over the fourteen-year-old’s.

Tsukiyama swallowed weakly.

Furuta fell to his knees in something between disgust and despair, “Stop! Stop it, Haise! You’re _mine_!”

Haise continued until the Tsukiyama heir appeared to be able to sit up and eat on his own. As long as he wasn’t going to die, Haise would be satisfied.

“Promise you won’t hurt us again?” The nine-year-old held out his pinky to ensure that the promise would be kept.

Tsukiyama stared in awe, his heart beating madly as he wrapped his pinky around the other’s “I promise.”

Haise smiled once before turning and running to his brother. He wrapped his arms around him in a hug, smiling despite the self-injury to his arm.

“Why? He was ready to kill you!”

Haise looked up with a smile, “His piano playing is really nice.”

“Tch-” Nimura wouldn’t buy it.

Haise went on, “He can’t be so bad if his music is so honest.”

Nimura stomped his foot before holding his brother tighter, “Nerd! You’re such a nerd!”

Haise laughed and pulled out of the hug, “They look like wings, Nimu-nii. It’s pretty.”

“Pretty?” They looked like something from hell- like he didn’t belong here on this Earth at all but somewhere beneath it.

It didn’t seem to appear that way to Haise in the slightest, “Yes, it fits you well.” He held up his uninjured arm, “Are you hungry, Nimu-nii?”

Furuta pushed his brother’s arm down in disgust, “No-no-no, I’m fine. You-”

Haise interrupted him, “Is Hide-kun, okay?”

Nimura shrugged, “Go check on him; I’m sure he’s fine.”

While Haise tended to his best friend, Nimura observed and touched his bikaku a moment more before willing it and his kakugan away.

It was then that Hide woke, “T-t-t-t- _ow_ , my _head_ \- whoa Haise, you okay?” When he sat up completely, he was holding his head as if to indicate he had been knocked out for most of it. The last thing he needed was for Furuta to have some other reason to pull him away from Haise.

“Yes, I’m okay. Everyone is okay.” Haise smiled. Hide would have found the words eerie had it been anyone else in that situation.

Hide looked around the room at the damage and whistled. “Good. Let’s go home.” He ruffled Haise’s hair and stood up while pulling Haise up with him.

“Okay!” They all headed towards the stairs, but Haise turned suddenly, “Oh, hold on!” He ran over to Tsukiyama’s side once more. “Tsukiyama-san, can you make a phone call for someone to get you?”

“Y-yes, Arima-kun.” Tsukiyama used Haise’s last name rather than his first. He was still in shock from everything that had been revealed and everything that had happened.

“Okay! See you Monday!”

“S-see you . . . .”

Nimura took Haise’s hand as they walked down the stairs. He didn’t care if Hide saw; Haise was his more than he was anyone else’s anyway, “It’s agreed that we don’t tell father about this?”

“Agreed.” Haise smiled.

“Good.”

Hide walked further ahead of them to the door outside.

Nimura pressed, “You won’t even tell him about-No, promise you won’t.” There was a touch of fear in his voice and Haise was clueless as to why it was there.

“Course not!”

Hide called towards them, “You two are slow! My house is close by. We can wash up before my parents get home.”

 


	12. Chapter 12

The same day of Tsukiyama’s attack, Haise and Nimura healed quickly after their father fed them for dinner. Nimura’s excuse for his damaged hand had been a poor one, but Arima would ask questions later as soon as Haise was away. Being a father was constantly a challenge- more-so with Nimura than Haise. However, Shinohara no longer checked in on their little makeshift family which showed he had full faith in Arima to do the job. He also no longer had to report as often to Tsuneyoshi Washuu concerning Haise's development. Somewhere along the way, he realized that Haise wanted nothing to do with fighting. Still, he felt it important that anyone, including his sons, be able to protect themselves. After sending Haise to bathe, Arima gathered the twelve-year-old in his arms and carried him to the couch in the living room for his interrogation.

“Let me go, old man!”

Arima sat Furuta down in his lap, completely overpowering him even though the boy had the strength of a ghoul. He was still a child, after all. Arima took his small hand in his and gently began to unwrap the bandages, “How did you really hurt your hand, Nimura?”

“I broke a window.”

Arima finished unwrapping the bandage and inspected the skin, the movement of the fingers, and his arm, “You’re being honest?”

“Lying to you never works.” Well, it never worked for Furuta; it did wonders for Haise. Furuta stopped struggling. It was rare that Arima was gentle, but in the times that he was, Furuta always felt conflicted. Sometimes, he liked Arima, and he knew that was dangerous. Relationships should only be forged so long as he benefitted from them. Arima did take care of him, and, beyond that, Arima provided his only direct connection to Haise. He had to accept things like this if he was going to stay with Haise, and nothing could pull him away from the younger half-ghoul.

Arima released the smallest of smiles. “You’re learning.  . . . though it did take you some time.” Arima picked up who he saw now as his eldest son, and turned him to face him, “Even if your wounds can heal, that doesn’t mean you should be needlessly bringing harm to yourself.”

Nimura said nothing. Arima sucked at lectures and they were never anything Nimura wanted to hear.

“This body is the only one you have, so treat it well.” Arima kissed his forehead and Nimura rolled his eyes.

“Whatever.”

Arima smiled once more before going on, “When he set the table, I noticed. Haise was injured as well- his right arm?”

“Yeah, I took care of it.” Nimura moved out of Arima’s lap to sit further down the couch and Arima let him.

“It’s not a big deal. I’m fine, and he’s fine.” Nimura grabbed the pillow on the couch and hugged it while he looked up at Arima with a bored frown, “I know he’s your favorite; you don’t have to pretend.”

Arima took the pillow behind him and mimicked the twelve-year old, “I won’t.”

Furuta laughed, “He’s my favorite, too. I’ll protect him with my life.”

“You’re twelve.” Arima followed his words quickly.

“So?” Furuta hated being doubted.

“Sometimes, I’m very sure you have forgotten.”

“Whatever. I protected him today, and I’ll do it again.” Nimura said confidently. 

Arima smiled again, leaned over, and patted his son on the head.

“Hey, stop.” Furuta batted his hands away.

“You’re my precious son, too.”

“Shut up! I am not!”

“Who happens to have a huge big brother complex.”

“I do not!”

Arima pulled him into a hug and stood lifting him off the ground as Nimura struggled. He'd enjoy the time they remained small enough to tease in this manner; the two of them were growing so fast.

“Ugh! Gross! Assault! Let me go, old man!”

“Do you want to scare Haise?”

Nimura stopped, now hanging upside down in Arima’s arms.

“Nimura, one day, you and Haise will have to part.”

Nimura reached to the ground and Arima let him go so that he was doing a handstand, “We don’t have to. I can stay with Haise forever.” 

“You’re still twelve.” Arima reminded him.

“Shut up!”

 

* * *

 

Nimura crawled into his bed inside the bedroom he and Haise shared only for him to realize that there was already someone in it. “Haise, you’re in my bed.”

Haise turned on his back beneath the covers, “Can’t I sleep here, too? Please, Nimu-nii.”

Nimura sighed and got in beside him, “Yeah, of course.” They wouldn’t be able to do this much longer. They were both growing and the bed wasn’t getting any bigger. Their father had mentioned getting a new apartment recently. It would mean they’d have their own rooms, too. Neither of the boys appeared particularly fond of the idea, but neither of them showed it either.

“Is your hand better?” Haise curiously as he searched for his brother’s hands beneath the sheets.

“Yes, mostly.” Nimura thought nothing of it and soon their fingers were intertwined.

“You’re so strong, Nimu-nii.” Haise said softly. It was clear that he was tired.

“What? No, I’m not. Honestly, you-”

Haise interrupted, “You are. I wonder if my mother would be alive if I were as strong as you back then.”

Furuta couldn’t believe some of the things Haise said at times. “You’re tired.”

“I hope I become as strong as you, Nimu-nii, with such a cool kagune.”

Nimura bit his lip, drawing blood. He didn’t want Haise to fight, really. He didn’t want Haise to have a kagune, either.  Haise moved in the small bed, and suddenly, Nimura felt something warm and wet on his chin. Haise proceeded to follow the trail of blood and lick up his brother’s chin and across his lips.

Nimura, without thinking, closed his eyes and moved the boy’s awkward mouth and tongue, which had only been seeking the taste of blood, into a kiss. Haise wasn’t sure how to respond, so he simply mimicked the way his brother’s mouth and tongue moved. It was weird to Haise, but it wasn’t unpleasant.

Nimura broke the kiss, breathing heavily; he’d forgotten to breathe at all. He gently moved Haise to sleep beside him.

“That was my first kiss, Haise.” He didn’t sound accusatory exactly, but he in no way was claiming responsibility for it.

Haise blinked, “A kiss? Oh, me too.” He hadn’t realized, but now that Nimura had said it, he felt stupid for not realizing. He nodded and buried his head in his brother’s shoulder.

Nimura laughed at his innocence; it was a trait he found endearing only in Haise.

“I got to see your kagune for the first time today and I gave you your first kiss. Do you think it will be long before my kagune appears?”

Nimura closed his eyes in the darkness, “Nerd, that won’t be for a long time. Go to sleep, Haise.”

The younger child with the black hair squirmed slightly before finding a comfortable position beside his brother, “I like sharing firsts with you, Nimu-nii.”

Nimura blushed lightly. Haise was the only thing on this Earth worth anything. “ _Good night_ ,” he warned his little brother in an annoyed tone.

Nimura could hear the smile in Haise’s voice, “Sweet dreams, Nimu-nii.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will involve another time skip.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seven Years Have Passed  
> Haise- 16  
> Hide-17  
> Nimura- 19  
> Shuu- 21
> 
>  
> 
> In this chapter, two months pass between the competition at the beginning and the rest of the chapter.

“Magnifique! Beautiful! Your sound was perfect, mon peche.”

Haise smiled as he struggled to find a way to hold the large bouquet of flowers the eccentric ghoul handed him. “I couldn’t have done it without your help, Tsukyiama-san.” He bowed respectfully to his teacher, mentor, and above all, friend. So much had happened over the last seven years. He’d become closer to a lot of people and his world was no longer limited to just Hide and his brother. That had all started after he’d befriended Shuu Tsukiyama.

Tsukiyama physically moved him into a standing position and continued with flamboyant gesticulations, “Non! Non! You practiced dusk till dawn, Arima-kun.”

Nimura smiled hopelessly at the exchange as he came to greet his brother with Hide and Arima just behind him. “Yeah, don’t give this guy credit for your hard work,” he said in a sing-song voice.

Hide piped in, “On this, I can agree. That was all you, Haise. Man, I nearly cried.” He hugged his best friend and followed the hug with their personal take on a fist-bump.

“Papa?” Haise handed his brother the bouquet of flowers so that he could face his father directly.

The others stepped away to make space to watch the exchange between the two. It wasn’t a secret that Haise pressured himself quite a bit. Between studying at the CCG, regular school duties and ranking near the top of his class, and his piano practice, he was stretched rather thin. He’d skipped his training sessions and classes at the CCG a countless number of times in the last two months in preparation for this particular regional competition that had ended with him being the best in his age bracket in the whole of the Kanto region.

Arima put his hand in his son’s black hair and ruffled it lightly messing it up quickly, “You did well, Haise.”

Haise looked back up to him, speechless a moment as a blush rose to his cheeks. When he finally found his words, he could only deny the praise. “But Papa, I know you wanted me to focus more on-” He didn’t get to say _training to be an investigator_  because his father interrupted him.

“You couldn’t have done so well were your attention divided,” Arima said simply.

Haise held back tears in his eyes, “Th-thank you, Papa.”

Arima fixed his hair affectionately after having completely messed it up. He realized others were still waiting for pictures with the regional champion. “Will you continue on?”

Haise didn’t hesitate, “To nationals, yes.” He had his father’s support now; he could possibly go all the way to the international competition in Sendai.

He hadn’t expected his interest in music to take him this far. He still felt heavily invested in literature and science, specially Entomology, and he spent time drawing when he could as well. It was at the encouragement of Tsukiyama that he felt like he could possibly go from being a good pianist to a great one. That was seven years ago now.

 

* * *

 

Arima had never purchased Haise his own piano- not even a keyboard. He did not encourage Haise’s pursuit nor did he discourage his interest. After he started showing up later and later each day after practice, he simply stopped supporting the notion of Haise becoming a professional pianist. The lack of support had been felt quite strongly on Haise’s part even if he still had his brother, Hide, and the friends he’d made along the way all rooting for him. He was sixteen but a second year in high school. Next year was his last year, and there was already pressure for him to spend his last year at a famous music school in Tokyo. It was a straight shot from there to an international school of music. Even if his father had shown his approval at the competition he’d won two months ago, when they’d returned home, it had gone back to the same routine. His father didn’t want him to play, and that pressure was weighing in on Haise heavily. To be a pianist it was all or nothing, and he wasn’t sure he truly wanted it as badly as the competition.

It had always been clear that Nimura would just join the CCG; it wasn’t even a question. Haise never really knew why, but he figured it had something to do with the fact that even though he lived with them as part of their family, Nimura never dropped the family name of Furuta and taken Arima. Haise wasn’t legally his brother and he was never legally his father’s son. Nimura never seemed bothered by it, but Haise was. Even still, he didn’t feel like it was his right to be, so he never said anything about it. Nimura was nineteen already and had started on the force as an investigator five months prior. He didn’t complain, but sometimes he would show up to Tsukyiama’s place, where Haise practiced, and would just silently listen and wait for him to finish so that they could go home together.

There had been a spike in ghoul activity over the last year, and it made their father scarce. He often wasn’t home in time himself to eat dinner with them. He never talked about work, and neither of them asked. But lately, he’d been found in random places throughout the house asleep on the floor. It had been funny at first until Nimura had found him with a head injury on the floor of the bathroom.

All three of them were under stress currently which just made Haise feel selfish when he looked to his brother for help. He had received another letter requesting he spend his last year of high school at a music school on the East side of Tokyo. Part of him just wanted to tear it to pieces, but most of his thoughts were of elation over having received such a letter in the first place. So, that same day, he skipped his afternoon practice with Tsukiyama, coming up with the excuse of having some sort of make-up hours he had to complete for the CCG cadet training, and he got ready for bed. Once that was over, he pulled back the covers on his brother’s bed and hid beneath them with a book. It would be anywhere from one to three hours before his brother got home, but he’d wait.

He knew his behavior was childish, but it wasn’t as if he always acted this way. He just wanted Nimura to make him feel better. He always did.

Nearly two hours later, and Haise heard the door to his brother’s room open and close.

“Haise? Why haven’t you answered any of Arima’s texts?” Nimura was removing his coat and gloves as he spoke. Haise was oddly familiar with his brother’s routine.

“I don’t have my phone. It’s in my room.” Haise spoke from beneath the comforter as he closed his book.

Furuta removed his badge, his single weapon, his tie, and his belt until he was wearing only his vest, blouse, and pants. “What are you doing here, Haise?”

“Just let me sleep here tonight?” Haise made sure to make his voice sound a touch pathetic. If he needed to use his puppy-dog eyes with his brother, he could. It usually worked.

“Wrong answer,” Nimura nearly sang with a smile as he spread his arms out on either side of him and fell backward onto his bed.

“Ouch! Nimu-nii! That hurt!” Haise moved out from beneath the covers to see his brother grinning.

“But it worked,” he replied innocently.

Haise sighed.

“Yes, Haise? There is something you wanted to discuss? I am all ears.” He sat up, his smile never leaving him, and pulled his ankles in to sit cross-legged in front of Haise.

“I’m scared Nimu-nii.”

Nimura was given no context, but he knew the answer, “You shouldn’t be.”

Haise went on as if Nimura knew exactly what he was referencing, “You joined the CCG. He won’t admit to it, but I know Hide will take after his parents, too. It’s what I’m supposed to do, too, isn’t it?”

The nineteen-year-old’s expression fell serious and he answered sternly, “No.”

“You hate fighting.” Haise insisted.

His brother shrugged, “I’m good at a lot of other things. You hate fighting, too.”

Haise took in a deep breath as if gathering strength, “But _I’m_ good at it.” That was also true. Haise was basically a prodigy at anything he set his mind to. It likely had something to do with Arima’s disappointment in his current path as well. “ _I_ should be with you, Nimu-nii. And Papa, too. And Hide. I want to protect all of you.”

Nimura simply laughed, “ _I_ can protect myself. Your kagune hasn’t even come out. Play the piano.”

The sixteen-year-old rolled his eyes, “You’re so convincing with that tone of voice.”

Nimura immediately stopped laughing and raised an eyebrow, “What else do I say, Haise?”

“I-I mean-” Haise didn’t know; he just knew that his brother usually had the answers. He started to panic internally. He felt his mind racing.

“I always know what to say to everyone but you. I know exactly what people want to hear, and I’ve always known, but with you . . . It’s like I never get it right.” Nimura’s tone had dropped completely and his words treaded mountains to reach Haise’s ears. He was clearly feeling very discouraged himself and Haise hadn’t even noticed.

“I’m such a terrible brother.” Haise felt the tears begin to fall. Why hadn’t he noticed sooner that Nimura was carrying his own burden? Why hadn’t he asked about it? Why hadn’t he tried to cheer him up all those times he’d come to hear him play? Why was he so self-absorbed? He brought his own problems to his brother when his brother was suffering problems of his own. Haise choked out as he cried, “I’m sorry.”

“Haise-” Nimura’s voice was empty of any emotion. He hated Haise’s tears.

“I’m so sorry.” Haise repeated.

“No, Haise, you- _stop crying_.” Nimura nervously started popping his fingers.

Haise couldn’t hold back his sobs. “I’m sorry, Nimu-nii.”

Nimura frowned, beginning to feel frustrated at his own inability to better the situation, “You’re under a lot of pressure right now. _Please stop crying._ ”

“So are you!” Haise argued, “I’m being selfish.”

Nimura shook his head and raised his voice in annoyance, “You’re not, but gods- _stop crying Haise!_ ”

“I don’t deserve to have a normal life! You’ve never had one, so-!” Haise wasn’t even sure what he was saying anymore. His thoughts were swimming in and out of his head.

Furuta reached across the bed suddenly and put his hand around Haise’s throat, slamming his head against the wall just above the headboard of his bed, “ _What does that have to do with anything?_ ” Furuta didn’t exactly have a normal life because _that’s what he’d chosen_. His own self-destruction was never something Haise should apply to himself or use as a comparison for the direction his own life should take.

Haise just continued to let the tears fall. He didn’t raise a finger to stop his brother’s misplaced anger.

“ _Quit fucking crying!_ You deserve everything, Haise!” His grip tightened around his throat, “You deserve the world so just fucking take it!” Haise’s face and eyes were becoming redder in color and his kakugan emerged, but instead of struggling against his brother, Haise _smiled_.

Nimura’s eyes took in the sight and he let go suddenly, “Fuck, Haise.” Haise’s head hit the headboard but he landed on the pillows beneath it. He turned to his side, coughing, but the coughs didn’t last long and soon transitioned into laughter.

Nimura sighed, sat back on his bed, and observed him quizzically.

Haise sat up to face him, his smile wide, and then he closed the distance between them to kiss his brother full on the mouth.

Nimura’s hands searched awkwardly for his little brother’s shoulders, his surprise apparent in his reaction, but he returned the kiss immediately.

And then, as soon as it had begun, it ended, and Haise parted their lips, “You always get it right, Nimu-nii.”

“What’s that?” Nimura tried to slow his heart.

“What I want to hear.” Haise smiled, now fully recovered.

“O-oh.”

Haise moved out of his brother’s bed and made for the door.

“Where are you going?”

“I have an application to finish.” Haise winked and Nimura looked away.

“Right.” Once recovered, he gave a mock salute and smiled with his eyes closed.

With that, Nimura was left alone. He fell back on his bed, Haise’s scent already all but gone.

He could do anything he wanted to Haise, and Haise would never see him as a monster. He would never see him as anything other than his brother. He wanted to ask Haise if he thought them both monsters or if he was really stupid enough to think that he deserved any amount of affection Haise gave him.

The kiss was a surprise, but it wasn’t out of the ordinary.

Since the night he had produced his kagune for the first time, everything intimate between them had become pretty much a blur. It was Haise that always was interested in biting him- in tasting blood and consuming his flesh. Furuta never bit Haise, but it was him that always had curious hands. More recently, they’d lay together in bed, completely naked, just touching. Furuta was old enough to realize that it needed to be stopped, but he never made any effort to do so. It made Haise happy, and he was happy Haise was comfortable enough to expose his vulnerabilities to him. They never did anything sexual beyond using their hands, and that was enough for Furuta.

-But he worried.

He worried that Haise would get bored, that he’d move on to someone else or realize it was strange because he was another male or something-

So Furuta never said _no_. He never said _stop_. He never pushed Haise’s hands away or told him to get out of his bed or failed to return a kiss . . .

Haise was the only person he didn’t lie to, aside from Arima for the most part.

Haise was the only part of himself that was good- making Haise happy was the only part of himself that was likeable. His happiest moments were the ones in which Haise smiled just for him; if a person that beautiful could find something inside him worth caring for, trusting, loving, even, then- then maybe his miserable existence was worth something.

He could go on living, at least for that one person.

 

* * *

 

 

“You were yelling earlier?” Arima and Nimura were in the living room. Haise listened from the hallway. He couldn’t see them, but he wanted to hear what his brother would say.

“Haise and I got into a fight.” Nimura lied. “I didn’t know you were home.”

“Over what?” Arima prodded, his tone never changing.

“He doesn’t want to apply to the music school.” It wasn’t entirely untrue.

Arima chose his words carefully, “ . . . It’s a dangerous world for both of you.”

Nimura spoke honestly, “I don’t want him to be an investigator.”

“Working with the CCG is the safest place for him.” Arima reasoned.

Haise bit his lip. It was really true. His father just wouldn’t say it to his face. His father wanted him to join the CCG; he didn’t want him to be a pianist.

Nimura’s tone grew a touch accusatory, “You don’t want him to follow his dreams. You lied.”

“I just want him to be safe.” Haise could hear his father sigh from all the way in the hallway. It almost seemed as if the two of them had had this same conversation many times before.

“He has always worked so hard.” Nimura raised his voice, “He puts so much pressure on himself! He deserves this!”

Haise remembered the words his brother had told him not two hours ago.

“He does.” Arima would not argue that.

“But you still-”

“I’m his father. I can wish for his happiness and still worry for his safety.”

“I hate you.” Nimura seethed.

Haise covered his mouth. He knew his brother didn’t mean it.

“That feels true at times.” Arima admitted, “I told you the day would come where you’d have to part from him.”

Nimura felt tears fall down his face, but he ignored them entirely as if by doing so it would make them disappear. “I really really hate you.”

Arima stood and wiped them away before turning his back to his eldest son, “You act as if you are the only person who will miss him.”

 

* * *

 

 

Haise suddenly felt like he was at the center of every story- not just his own, but that all the lives he touched were just extensions of his own story, too. If he left for this school, what would happen? He’d then go on to an international music school. Alone.

Hide wouldn’t be there. His other friends that he’d made over the years- Touka and her brother Ayato, Juuzou, Hinami, Banjou, and Tsukiyama, too.

His father would continue fighting ghouls here in Tokyo.

And Nimura.

He’d be without his big brother. His big brother . . . would be without him.

“Am I a burden to you, Nimu-nii?”

_‘You deserve the world so just fucking take it.’_

Haise loved playing the piano, but he already had the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts on where this might be going? I hope you are still enjoying it!


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 4 months later
> 
> There is sexual content in this chapter. You've been warned. To skip it, read only the first part with Hide~

4 months later

 

“You hear back from that school yet? It’s getting close; it’s already February.” Hide asked, just making conversation. They were in a small, private study room in the library of a university the CCG had access to. They weren’t able to spend time together often, but, since they still attended the same classes at school and were in line to take the same tests, they always made time for study dates together.

Haise didn’t look up from his homework, “No, I didn’t hear back.” There were circles under his eyes, and he appeared to look pale.

“I hate to see you like this man. Cheer up. They offered it to you, so-”

“Why is everything about the piano?” The question had come out of left field for Hide, but Haise’s tone had remain unchanged.

“What?” Hide paused. Haise had grown incredibly irritable in the last four months. The whole last year had been wearing on him; that much was obvious. He was juggling too much. Still, he had been fine with the hectic schedule of his life all these years because he enjoyed his time seated in front of the piano. Was it just not fun for him anymore, or was something else going on? Hide took a deep breath and tried to remain as inoffensive as possible. The last thing he wanted to do was add more stress to his best friend's plate, “Is something else bothering you? Haise, I’m not a mind reader; you gotta tell me what it is so I can help.”

Haise shrugged, but he still didn’t look up from his homework, “I’m not going.”

“Come again?”

Haise put his pencil down, took off his glasses, and began massaging his temples with his thumb and index finger, “I never even sent off the application.”

“What? Why?” Hide covered his mouth. The questions were out before he’d had time to filter them. It would have been comical had he not been treading on thin ice already. Was it just him, or was Haise getting a lot of headaches recently?

“I’m just not going.”

“But you’ve wanted to pursue the piano professionally for years.”

“I can’t go,” Haise said hopelessly.

“Why won’t you go?” Hide had to hold himself back from grabbing his best friend by the shoulders and shaking him to get the stupid out. Really, Haise’s headache was the only thing keeping him from doing so.

“I want to stay with you for our last year of high school.”

“That’s-” Hide covered a blush by looking away a moment. Well, it was _flattering_ is what it was, but it was also- “. . . that’s ridiculous! You being in a different building eight hours a day isn’t going to suddenly ruin our friendship. We’ve been best friends for over a decade. I’m not going anywhere.” Hide sat on the long desk they were sharing, just barely sitting on top of Haise’s homework , “It’s just that- you worked so hard for this!” Wait, he needed a new strategy, “You- Okay, fine. Don’t go the high school if you don’t want to. At least go to an international music school when you graduate. If you keep your title and win at nationals next week, I’m sure you’d get your first pick to anywhere- England, France, America-”

“Just stop!” Haise stood.

Hide put a gentle hand on his friend’s shoulder, “Haise, whoa-whoa man, what’s going on?” He’d become increasingly emotional lately like he was going to snap. Hide had seen Haise’s emotions come and go in waves like the tide of the ocean. He was with him nearly every day of his life; even if he didn’t actually pay attention or take notes on Haise’s mental health, it would have been obvious to anyone if they’d seen him as often as he did. Sometimes he’d be smiling and positive every day and other times he’d be negative, quick to anger or upset, and would cry at the drop of a hat. This year had by far been the worst on him though. He’d spent last year with everything he wanted, and reality just hit harshly this year.

Haise shook his head, his eyes apologetic, “It’s not what I’m meant to be.”

Hide watched his best friend very carefully with his brown eyes, “Hey, get yourself together. Who says? Man, you can be whatever you want! Didn’t Arima-san give you his approval after regionals?” Hide was doing his best to remain positive for him, like he always did when Haise was experiencing one of his lows.

“You don’t get it.”

Hide put his other hand on his best-friend's shoulder and offered gently, “Enlighten me?”

“Because I’m a ghoul.”

Hide tried not to take this personally, but he had never, not once, heard Haise use this as an excuse for anything. In fact, he rarely, if ever, even talked about it. He tried to remain as patient as possible, which, with Haise, wasn’t all too difficult,  “Haise, why does that have anything to do with it?”

Haise snapped suddenly, “It has everything to do with it!”

“How? Explain it to me.” Hide’s eyes captured gray ones and didn’t let them go.

“I can’t succeed in something like that.”

Hide knew he meant so much more than succeed, but without knowing the details of how Haise lived his life as a half-ghoul and going entirely off of assumptions, all he could say was, “You can.”

“You don’t know what it’s like, Hide!” Haise snapped again and moved his arms to knock Hide’s hands from his shoulders.

Hide went silent and waved through the window of the room at a passer-by to show that everything was fine. He was glad there were few people in this area this evening. Haise had never, not once, talked about himself like this. Hide had no clue that any of this had even been bothering him let alone affecting and dictating his life decisions. “No, no I don’t.”

“It’s so hard. In the little things, too, like-” Haise stopped, suddenly disgusted by his own selfishness.

Hide only gently and patiently encouraged him, “You can tell me.”

Haise deflated, “Just let it go.”

Hide knew in that moment that he’d lost him. “I’m here, Haise, if you-”

“I said just let it go. I’m not going to the music school and that’s final.”

“That’s fine. That’s your decision, but . . . Are you really going to let that part of your life-”

“Like I said before _‘You don’t get it’_. And you know what? You never will! You couldn’t possibly.”  Haise grabbed his bag, opened the door behind him, and walked out. He knew Hide would get his homework and return it to him on Monday.

“Haise! Haise!” Hide kicked the nearest object which happened to be a solid wood table and instantly regretted it as pain shot up through his leg, “Fuck!” He shut his eyes, winced, and covered them with his hand, “Damn it, Haise.” They’d never fought like this before- never over this topic- this issue- this _burden_? Hide didn’t know how to label it.

It was clear now more than ever that something else was going on though.

Something was bothering Haise to the point that he was letting it dictate his life. The problem was, Hide couldn’t fix the problem if he didn’t know what it was. Sometimes, playing the _‘support’_ was the most difficult part to play.

 

* * *

 

“Haise?” Furuta pulled back the covers of his bed to see his the half-ghoul in question curled into a ball with a tear-stained face and bloodied fingers.

“Nimu-nii-” His eyes only flitted in his direction a second before he closed them and squinted them hard as if he were struggling to hold back tears.

“ _Haise._ ” Nimura slid his arms around the teen’s back and chest and pulled him out of his rigid position to embrace him. He knew Haise was the only person he’d ever embrace in his lifetime; he knew it even now at the young age of nineteen and he’d known it since that night when he was nine. He looked at his fingers, “Haise, what did you do?”

Haise hid his hands immediately. “It’s mine.”

“Third time is _not_ a charm, my dear Haise.” Nimura sighed. “Anything beyond the first failure is just a mistake.” He struggled with his brother a moment until he had the bloodied fingers in his hands. Without thinking, Nimura turned his brother to face him and brought Haise’s left hand to his mouth, sliding his whole ring finger into his mouth and slowly sliding it out free from blood or wounds. Haise watched as Nimura continued with his middle finger and then his index finger. Haise was mystified as his brother’s kakugan cracked into view.

This had not been the first time Haise had damaged his fingers and this wasn’t even the worse, but it was the third time Nimura knew of- all of them happening within the last month as Haise prepared for the national tournament. He didn’t really understand Haise’s actions. He’d just heal anyway, so what was the point in doing this? He’d cut them. He’d broken them. This time, he’d bitten them. Why was he punishing himself?  Didn’t he understand his worth?

Lost in Haise’s gray eyes as he watched him, Nimura picked up his other hand and cleaned it in the same way. He knew he was enjoying this too much. He knew he should stop and take his brother to the sink and wash his hands normally but- the way Haise’s eyes followed him made him forget to breath. The way Haise leaned in just a little closer each time he pulled his wet mouth away and the way Haise’s lips parted slowly as he turned his tongue around the curves of hands made Nimura want nothing more than to give him everything- anything Haise wanted. If he wanted the world on a platter, Nimra would be the chef.

Or, if he just wanted-

Haise worked at the buttons on the other’s jacket slowly, eyebrows knit in concentration as he used his wet hands to begin stripping his brother free of clothing. He loosened and slid off his tie. He unbuttoned his vest and slid it off his shoulders. He began to work at the buttons on his neatly pressed black shirt as Nimura pushed the thus far discarded clothing off the bed.

Haise’s cheeks were red and it was no longer due to tears as pressed his palms flat against the creamy white skin of his brother’s chest.

The younger half-ghoul sunk his teeth rather suddenly into the other’s flesh and Nimura hissed at the pain and moved their bodies so that he was flush against the headboard of the bed as Haise bit deeper into him, pulling a chunk from his shoulder. His body’s response to Haise’s inclination towards treating himself to his flesh had changed over time and recently, Nimura was finding it increasingly difficult to hide just how it made him feel now. He’d at first enjoyed the pain; as a child, he was used to being hurt by others in all manners of ways and Haise simply kept his pain tolerance high. In a way, it was a security. As time went on, he felt differently about it. He liked that it was something that only he and Haise shared. He liked that Haise came only to him for such things. He liked that Haise sought comfort from him in this way even if it was a little strange. But lately- Lately, he felt his body respond to Haise in ways it hadn’t before and suddenly the breath on his neck and the teeth on his skin were no longer comforts, but threats- threats of pleasure that he would not act on.

It wasn’t as if Haise fed on him solely as a source of nourishment.  He still ate his meals. Since Haise had been small, he had sought out Nimura to taste him any time he felt scared, small, weak, or even threatened. Apparently Nimura’s taste was a comfort to him in the same way hugging a teddy bear might be to a child. But, Haise was no longer a child. Even still, Haise realized long ago that the habit he had adapted towards Nimura in this way was not a healthy one; it made him dependent, and he soon began to associate dependency with burden- even if Nimura never said anything of the sort. Despite that, the habit had become almost routine. Haise, as of late, had started feeding on Nimura often. In the last year it had gone from once a month, if that, to several times a week- especially in the last four months.

Haise tore away at the skin with his teeth and sucked at the blood that spilled forth. He had promised himself that two days ago had been the last time, but he needed this now. He was always promising himself that it would be the last time, that Nimura didn’t want this, and that he needed to stop but he was too weak. And his weaknesses only grew. He needed his big brother to make him okay again- to make his life okay again. He needed his strength. Maybe it was here in his blood. Nimura had produced a kagune after-all. Haise had yet to be able to do such a thing. Nimura had always been better at surviving. Haise felt his tears return and run hot down his cheeks only to fall onto his brother’s skin afterward.

Nimura moved his neck to give Haise better access. Unable to keep himself from encouraging his younger brother, he gently pulled him on top of him and Haise straddled his legs to continue his meal comfortably.

Nimura closed his eyes and tried to slow his heart. Haise was clearly distraught over something and here he was somehow finding everything about the situation he’d been in more times than he could count suddenly incredibly lewd. His body grew hotter as Haise’s tongue lept at the wound and he felt himself unravel at how Haise’s teeth scraped along salted skin to find a new place to taste and begin devouring all over again.

It wasn’t until Haise bit into him a third time that Haise realized too late that he was moaning and his hips were rocking against his brother’s. Haise pulled away, blushing deeply with blood dripping from his mouth and stared, still sitting in his brother’s lap. He wanted to have sex with his brother? His tears stopped.

Nimua’s own face was flush, lips red and parted as he tried to steady his breathing, his naked chest moving up and down as the blood flowed down his stomach and stained the edges of his pants. It fell to the bed and stained the sheets red. He did not move.

Haise looked back up to his brother’s eyes, distraught suddenly, and searched them for a sign.

Nimura only smiled knowingly. Anything Haise wanted from him, he was free to take. That had always been the case, and it had never changed. It never would.

Haise removed his clothing and finished removing his brother’s.

This was nothing new, and no lines had been crossed until Haise, in a whisper, asked, “May I keep tasting you?”

Nimura nodded as his heart beat faster. Haise’s tongue lapped at the blood still dripping from the open wounds and he followed the trail with his tongue all the way down. Nimura moaned as Haise’s cautious tongue began to wrap curiously around him.

Haise blushed from the noises his brother made. He was already imagining his brother on him as well. He opened his mouth wider and slid his whole mouth around his brother. He felt familiar yet desperate hands in his hair. He was doing something right at least. He felt his brother’s hands press his mouth farther down and then release the pressure. Haise took the hint and began to match the rhythm.

“Haise . . . like that- yes, like that-”

Haise had tasted this before when he licked it from his fingers in the past, but like this, like this he only felt regret over having not done it sooner.

He let go of his thoughts.

Nimura, now reduced to begging Haise to devour him quickly and to take everything soon came without warning to the other half-ghoul.

Haise coughed a few times, but then swallowed, and began cleaning the cum and the remaining blood away with his tongue.

Nimura, now catching his breath, could only watch- his mind blank in that moment of anything clever to say.

Haise finally looked back up at his brother, his lips still smeared with blood, and smiled mischievously, “I want you to taste me. You never do.”

“Eat you?” Furuta clarified, eyes widening.

“Yes.” Haise’s tone had already taken to pleading.

“But why would I eat-”

“You and I are the same, right Nimu-nii?” Haise smiled knowingly. He knew his brother had always hated that part of himself, even if it was what tied them so closely together.

“The same?”

Haise, still fully erect, made himself comfortable on top of his brother, “I want you to taste me, too.”

“But I-” Nimura _never_ bit Haise.

“Please!”  Haise rolled his hips against him once more.

Nimura couldn’t refuse. He put his mouth just above Haise’s collarbone.

“Oh-” Haise closed his eyes, taking pleasure already in feeling his brother's breath on his skin. His slid his hands into his brother’s straight black hair and hummed  breathy encouragement into his ear.

“H-Haise,” Nimura bit down and tasted the sweet- too sweet- blood of his little brother. He bit through the skin and ripped away the flesh as Haise moaned. His hands fell around to grope at Haise’s ass and encourage the rolling of his hips.

“Nimu-nii, please, more, please-again- please-”

Nimura couldn’t believe a single bite could reduce Haise to this, but he followed the request immediately and after sucking at the first wound and working his hands on Haise’s back, he bit him again. Deeper. His teeth tore through muscle and he suddenly felt Haise’s hips jerk in his hands.

The other half-ghoul nearly screamed as he came, completely unraveled and elated as he emptied himself on his brother’s chest. He took his shirt he’d discarded and wiped his brother’s body clean of cum but left the blood, so that the two could continue tasting one another. His own wounds were not healing as fast as his brother’s, but it was probably because Haise had bit into him to many times in that same spot.

“You and I are the only ones. We're the only One-Eyed Ghouls.”

“Haise-” Nimura didn’t like that kind of talk exactly, and it wasn’t entirely true either.

“You’re the only one who can understand me.”

Nimura did like hearing that however.

“And I’m the only one who can understand you.” Haise was still smiling as he licked at the few remaining drops of blood left from Nimura’s nearly healed wounds.

Did Haise truly finally understand? They didn’t need anyone else. As long as they had each other, nothing else mattered. Nimura wanted Haise all to himself. “You were upset earlier, nerd.” Knowing it would please Haise, he licked at the wounds he’d inflicted upon him.

Haise curled around his touch with breathy laughter, “I got into a fight with Hide. It was stupid.”

“Over what?”

“I never applied to the music school.”

Nimura kept his own surprise a secret, “Oh?”

“I want to spend my last year of school with him. And maybe . . . maybe I shouldn’t be a pianist. I-”

“This again?” Nimura gave a mock yawn.

“Nimu-nii?” Haise waited for his brother’s take on the situation.

“You want to keep playing the piano.” Haise hid his face a moment before looking at his brother again, “It’s not selfish. You should share your music with as many people as you can.”

“It’s not? But I’m a ghoul-” Haise fell over to Nimura’s side and Nimura turned to his side to face his brother.

“You’ve spent the last four months since regionals practicing for nationals. You haven’t been doing that for anyone but yourself.”

“I- that-” He couldn’t argue against that, but wasn’t that selfish?

“And that’s okay, Haise.” Nimura couldn’t stop talking once he had Haise’s attention, “Win nationals. Go on to the International competition in Sendai. Whatever happens next, worry about when you get there.”

“Y-yes.” Haise blinked.

“You have to take things as they come. You’re destroying yourself.”

“I love you, Nimu-nii.” It was out before he had time to process the words. Haise blushed suddenly. He’d never said those words to anyone but his father. He’d never even said them to Nimura with brotherly affection.

Nimura was blushing as well, but he couldn’t move his mouth to form the proper response, “You . .. Haise . . . just you . . .”

Haise nodded and kissed brother on the lips. “I get it now. It’s okay.”

Nimura said nothing.

* * *

 

 

Arima arrived home late that night to find Haise’s room empty and Nimura’s room locked. He’d suspected something was going on for some time, but he could not imagine what. It was apparently enough that they felt it necessary to hide it from him, and that only worried him further. The last thing he wanted was secrets within his own small family.

 

* * *

 

 

At the national competition, Haise won again, though by an extremely close margin. His performance brought shock and awe to the audience and he surprised even himself with his performance. He earned the title of Best in Japan for the youth section. He will turn 17 before he arrives in Sendai in four months time for the Sendai International Music Competition, so he’ll be just old enough to enter the competition, but likely the youngest one there. Even where he stood now, he had his choice of schools, but merely participating and ranking at the international competition will ensure him acceptance anywhere.

  
He still remained unsure as to whether or not he actually wanted to go anywhere however . . .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angst and violence ahead~


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 4 months later - May 28th  
> Haise- 17  
> Hide-17/18 by end of chapter :D  
> Nimura- 20  
> Shuu- 22

 

 “You made it in.” Hide sat beside Haise on the piano bench. They were at Tsukiyama’s small music studio which almost certainly had been rented out for the specific purpose that Tsukiyama could tutor Haise in peace and solitude.

Haise nodded, smiling as he continued reading the letter he’d received but had waited to open until now, “It’s made of three rounds and then there’s a Gala concert at the end.”

“Wait, but that’s-” Hide quickly tallied the number of competitions that were inside this single competition.

“Each round consists of two to four pieces. I have to, essentially, have six to twelve pieces ready in two weeks- six at the _least_. Each round is five days apart so-” Haise quickly began to calculate the time needed, which pieces he might play, and strategize how his schedule would work in order to prepare.

Tsukiyama put his hands on Haise’s shoulders, “Arima-kun, one at a time. Practice for the preliminary round and then spend the next five days in preparation for the semifinal round and so on.”

Hide was glad that Tsukiyama was actually sounding like a voice of reason for once. He joined in to try and relax his best friend, “Tsukiyama-san’s right. Don’t stress yourself out so much.”

“Each round can be anywhere from thirty-three to forty minutes long. The longest I’ve done is just under twenty-three. I can’t-”

“Arima-kun, I don’t want to hear that. Your music- _tres magnifique!_ This has already been proven. Do not doubt yourself. This is a chance to enrapture your audience in the sweet embrace of your-”

Hide abruptly cut in, “Basically, you got this. Let’s pick the music for now and then you can start practicing.”

“I’ll be the youngest one there . . .” Haise shivered.

“All the better when you kick their asses.”

Haise laughed, "That's not how piano competitions work! We're not in a Judo competition!"

 

* * *

 

 “How was your day, Nimura?” Arima still asked Nimura first even though he would always inevitably follow with-

“Ask Haise first.”

“Fair enough. Haise, how was your day?”

It was a rare occasion that they were all home in time for dinner. It hadn’t happened in months- usually with Haise practicing until nearly the last train home or with their father falling asleep in his office at work after staying late with work- or so he’d tell them. Nimura, more often than not, ate alone. He tried to make it to Tsukiyama’s studio to avoid it, but, at times, it was inevitable. He started changing his schedule so that he’d eat a lot on one day and could then go days or weeks without. No one noticed, and he felt better for it. He knew that if either of them found out, they’d probably make a fuss.

“I received the acceptance letter to the Sendai International Music Competition in two weeks. I may have been one of the last chosen.”

Arima didn’t miss a beat and continued eating his meal, “I see. Congratulations.”

Haise had already told Nimura, so his brother just kept his eyes on Arima hoping, for Haise’s sake, he’d be a bit more forthcoming in his support.

Haise did his best to smile; he wished his father would smile back. “I’ll be missing two weeks of school, but I already had it approved in advance. The Head Teacher and Principal are very excited for me.”

Arima said nothing, so Haise went on. “Tsukiyama-san will come with me to Sendai. The competition consists of three rounds. Each one is nearly the length of a full recital. Those chosen- it’ll be 3 people out of 41- will have a Gala in their honor on the last day.”

“Make it to the third and final round, Haise. I’ll be there for that one.” Arima tried smiling, but his heart was not in it and his eyes fell short of the message he’d hoped to convey.

He couldn’t protect Haise if he was off playing music in another country.

“Yes, Papa.”

“I’d like to support him for the Semifinal Round. I put in my request this afternoon.” Nimura looked at his food. He knew Arima himself could reject the time off request even if he wasn't his direct superior.

Arima turned his head to look at his eldest son, “You’d skip work completely if your time off was rejected. Why bother?”

Furuta met his eyes and waited for the punch line. When Arima didn't go on, he began laughing anyway, “Well, that’s true.”

Haise joined in, hoping their father was making a joke, “Is Nimu-nii really so useless?”

“I’m a measly Rank 2. What can I say?”

Finally, Arima managed a smile. It had been too long since he’d been with ones he cherished; he’d forgotten how important moments like these were. Being a parent and an investigator had taken its toll. He'd been neglecting them as they'd gotten older. He hated the distance between them now. It just made moments like these even more important.

 

* * *

 

“But Hide, what about school?” Haise’s eyes were wide with disbelief but his mouth was already curling into a smile.

“Eh, I’ll skip.”

“Hide!”

“It’s like, what- roughly two weeks? I’ll get Fueguchi-san to get her mom to write a doctor’s note.”

“She’s a nurse- not a doctor.”

“Whatever.” he shrugged, his smile reaching his ears.

Haise laughed, “And the school will know you’re with me.” They were known to be _joined at the hip_ so-to-speak.

“Pfft, what can they prove?”

Haise continued laughing, his eyes mirroring the mirth in Hide’s, “Hide, you can’t. After testing, sure, but you haven’t taken the entrance exams yet.”

Hide crossed his arms in front of his chest, “Entrance exams. Riiiight.”

Haise stopped laughing, “You were going to try for Kamii. It’s not an easy school to get in to.”

“Yeah.”

The half-ghoul grew suddenly nervous, “Unless you didn’t mean it?”

“What?” Hide saw the expression on Haise’s face and knew he had to change his tune immediately, “Yeah, yeah, I meant it!”

Haise watched him carefully.

Hide smacked him on the back, “C’mon, I just want to be there for my best buddy.”

Haise smiled back, “Right, right.”

Hide sighed in relief. He wasn’t sure how far he’d go with this lie. Ever since they’d had their fight, he’d started telling Haise, promising Haise, that he was going to try for a school of his choice and that he wasn’t going to become an investigator.

It was a lie.

He actually wanted to be an investigator now. He was more interested in reconnaissance than actual fighting, but he found his parents too awe-inspiring to not follow in their footsteps. He also, in a way, wanted to be strong enough to protect Haise if he ever needed it. Plus, he knew enough ghouls to know that having someone on the inside wouldn’t hurt. He could protect people like Touka and her brother or the Fueguchi family if it came down to it.

He knew it would add pressure to Haise, however, so he kept his true intentions a secret. At least for now, while Haise was still trying to make his decision regarding whether or not to go on to study music internationally, he could set Haise’s mind at ease as far as his future was concerned. Hopefully, if he did this, it meant that he wouldn’t affect Haise’s decision either way.

Or so he hoped.

 

* * *

 

 

Two weeks later in Sendai, Tsukiyama, Hide, and Haise arrived for Haise’s first performance. They’d taken the bullet train and had arrived only a few hours before his time slot, so he went ahead to the venue to check in while the other two checked into the hotel.

Three hours later, Haise Arima, as the youngest participant, played Bach’s _Partita No. 4_ followed by Rachmaninov’s _Variations on a Theme by Corelli_. He hadn’t made any mistakes. The audience had been polite. As soon as he’d walked off stage, he’d blacked out. Luckily, he hadn’t been taken to the hospital and the First Aid crew at the venue had not attempted sticking him with any needles.

He’d woken up fifteen minutes later and immediately latched on to Hide. For a brief period, he was near hysterics with apologies and questions. He said he couldn’t remember playing and he was convinced he hadn’t gone up at all. After Tsukiyama and Hide persuaded him to go the hotel, he was able to eat, and he soon after calmed down.

Tsukiyama and Hide insisted on how well he played, how the judges wouldn’t know and couldn’t possibly dock points for him passing out backstage, and how he needed to focus on his health before he began practicing for the Semifinals. He listened. Instead of jumping at a chance to return to a practice room at the venue, he instead fell asleep.

There would be another two days of performances for the first round and the results wouldn’t be posted until the following day.

It meant five more days until his brother arrived. Haise wasn’t sure he could spend five days sleeping alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your support and comments! This may seem like a filler chapter- sorry! I promise there were important bits in here, though~ Thank you!


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for commenting! It really motivates me. /nod nod  
> I won't be able to update tomorrow, so I apologize in advance.

Hide leaned in the doorway of the practice room with yawn followed by his signature smile, “Hey, Haise. It’s 11:20. Rooms close at 11:30. Time to let it go, dude.”

Haise didn’t even look up and continued playing, “Right, I just want to get this part-”

Hide shook his head and began walking towards him, “Tsukiyama-san has the keyboard, remember? C’mon, let’s head back.”

Haise ignored him and continued playing, “It’s not the same. I just want-

Hide wrapped his arm suddenly around Haise’s waist and picked him up.

Haise struggled immediately, shocked, “What the hell, Hide? You’re a lot stronger than you look!”

“So, are you gonna come with me?”

“Yes! Yes, just put me down.”

Hide let Haise’s legs fall and Haise nearly tripped when he tried to stand. He’d been playing for hours straight and had forgotten to rest or stretch his legs. Hide helped steady him, eyebrows knit in concern. Haise had always devoted himself so wholeheartedly into what he was passionate about, but Hide wondered if maybe this competition was too much. He’d looked into the previous years of the competition, and the youngest contestant in the last five years had been nineteen. Maybe seventeen was pushing it, or maybe it was just Haise. He was pushing himself too far. “Hey, have you been eating okay lately?”

“What?”

“You just seem a little pale.” It was more than that, but Hide knew when to tread lightly. They hadn’t fought since four months ago in the library. Hide was friends with plenty of other ghouls; in fact, he counted more ghouls as friends than otherwise. Still, while the others didn’t seem to have much trouble talking about things here and there, especially Tsukiyama, Haise, even being his best friend, never discussed it with him. On top of that, to this day, Furuta still pretended to be human. Hide was well aware this wasn’t the case, but he never let on to Furuta and respected his unspoken wish for it to remain a secret.

But Haise.

Haise was his best friend. When had he started hiding that part of his life from him?

Haise laughed off Hide’s concern and waved it away with the fanning of his hand, “I’m fine. I just need to sleep.” He began to gather his few items around the room and put his music inside an envelope.

Hide felt he had no choice but to respect such a response.“Let’s not have a repeat of last night.”

“Last night?” Haise slung his bag over his shoulder and followed Hide out.

“Don’t pretend,” Hide said in a teasing tone to lighten the mood. “You slept, what, an hour and a half?”

Haise turned to look at him as they made their way down an endless hallway, “How did-?”

“That was the only length of time I didn’t hear the keyboard.” Hide knew he was admitting to something he shouldn’t, but if it guilted Haise at least somewhat into doing something good for himself, like _sleeping_ , then he’d take one for the team.

“Your room is at the other end of the hall.”

Hide shrugged innocently with a smile, “I may have been a little worried about my best buddy.”

Haise put two and two together. Hide had camped outside his room to make sure he was taking care of himself, “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, hey, hey, none of that.”

“Sleep with me tonight?” He’d asked without thinking, but he hoped it wasn’t a mistake.

Hide blinked. “W-what?”

“I’ll . . . be more likely to sleep.” Haise reasoned.

“Yeah, sure.” It was better than being an overly devoted friend borderlining on creepy waiting outside his door for him to fall asleep. Hide laughed awkwardly.

“What?”

“Nothing, nothing!”

 

* * *

 

 

Tomorrow morning, the results from the Preliminary Round would be posted.Tsukiyama had attended every performance and admitted there were pianists that held a higher level of skill. He then proceeded to rattle on about Haise having more _heart_. The competition was stiff either way. Haise wanted to continue on both because he wanted this title and he wanted his father to recognize his talent as something he could build a career out of, but part of him also wanted to fail. He loved playing the piano, but the stress was too much, and he still couldn’t bring himself to even imagine leaving his family and friends behind to attend a school out of the country.

He laid in bed, wide awake and staring at the ceiling. He felt like he was silently suffocating. If he were playing the piano right now, he’d be thinking of nothing but the music, but instead, he had promised Hide he’d try to sleep, so he was struggling between breaking that promise or-

“Hide, have you had sex before?”

Hide laughed, “Really?” They had been lying in the dark in the king sized bed with the only light coming from the digital alarm clock on the table for at least a half hour now, and that’s what was on Haise’s mind?

“Yeah. I want to know.”

Hide mentally shrugged. If it got Haise’s mind off of the competition and relaxed him enough to fall asleep, then he’d talk about sex for hours, “Honestly, no.” He didn’t really have much of a history, though.

“Oh.”

“I had the opportunity, but I like- wasn’t into her. I guess it was kind of stupid.” Hide had never talked to Haise about it; he’d been a bit embarrassed. He didn’t regret his decision but in other circles of friends, they made him feel like he should have.

“You’re so sentimental.”

Hide felt a blush rise to his cheeks. Did Haise think that was a bad thing?

“Is this about Touka?” he ventured to a topic aside from himself.

Haise wrinkled his nose in the dark, “What? No?”

“But you two-”

Haise went on the defensive, “I mean, she’s cute looking . . . but, ah- I dunno. I don’t want to . . . with her.”

Hide laughed to lighten the mood, turning on his side to face Haise in the dark, “Oh, I misunderstood then. That means she’s up for grabs?”

Haise turned to face him as well, barely making out the curve in his lips as he smiled back at him, “As if. She’s already shot you down a countless number of times.”

“So, someone else on your mind?”

“I just find it relaxing.”

Hide blinked, “What? Sex?”

“Yes.” There hadn’t even been a pause for reflection.

Hide only laughed again, “Whoa. Okay, back up. I mean, you don’t have to, but details?”

“You want to hear about my sex life?” Haise asked curiously.

Hide whistled, “When you put it that way, I sound like a creep.”

Haise laughed this time, “You are a creep.”

“Hey, you’re the one who brought it up.” Hide teased back.

There was a period of silence.

Hide could see that Haise was still awake, his eyes nervously flitting from one space to another. He was about to say something when Haise cut through the silence with a nervous question.

“Is it . . . do you think it’s weird if I want to  . . . with men . . . exclusively?”

Hide didn’t miss a beat, “Nope, not at all.”

Haise smiled in the darkness, “You said that . . . very quickly.”

“It’s not an issue. You like what you like.”

“You’re the best.”

“Don’t I know it.”

“Do you, Hide?”

“Know I’m awesome? Yes.”

Haise picked up a pillow and hit him with it, “Noo, do you like men?”

Hide laughed but didn’t retaliate, “I dunno. I lead with my heart.”

“You’re such a romantic.”

Hide put the extra pillow on top of Haise’s face with a smile, “Only you would think so.”

Haise moved the pillow away, his eyes meeting Hide’s, “Thank you for being here.” He inched closer now on his side again.

“Um, sure.” Hide laid down once more on his side facing Haise, “But you know you never have to thank me for that. There isn’t anywhere else I’d rather be.”

“Pfft, you’re on a roll tonight.” Haise teased.

Hide imitated his best friend’s tone, “Pfft, I’m just glad I got you out of the piano room and into bed?”

Haise took Hide’s hand in both of his, “It’ll help me sleep.”

“Yeah, cool. No problem. Here, gimme the other one- like when we were kids.” Hide grabbed Haise’s other hand with his free one until they had their fingers laced together.

Haise finally felt himself relax, “Yeah,” he yawned, “like when we were kids.”

Hide smiled at Haise’s closed eyes, his face finally looking like it was at peace, “Goodnight, Haise.”

“Night, Hide.”

 

* * *

 

“And, for the final entry in the Piano Section Semifinals, Number 41, Representing Japan, Arima Haise.”

 

Haise suddenly felt arms wrap around him and smelled roses, “You did it, Arima-kun!”

Haise felt tears in his eyes, “I thought I was going to die.” Tsukiyama released him and kissed his hand which had become something of a tradition after he won competitions that had started many years ago. It made Haise feel like he was some kind of King and the older man was pledging some kind of loyalty of some sort, but it wasn’t an unpleasant feeling. In the last eight years, Tsukiyama Shuu had devoted a great deal of time to Haise, and he felt indebted to him no matter how many times the ghoul insisted that he wanted nothing more than to see him succeed.

Hide was smiling ear to ear as he initiated their personal take on a fist bump, “Round 2!”

Haise laughed, the tears finally falling from his eyes. He was so relieved. He pulled out his phone immediately to text his brother.

 

_I’m in. When are you coming?_

**Oh, really? Funny. I boarded the bullet train an hour ago. (ʃƪ¬** **‿** **¬)**

 _You already left? (_ _ﾟ_ _д_ _ﾟ；_ _)  What if I hadn’t made it?_

 **I could have been there to dry your tears. ψ(** **｀∇** **´)ψ**

 _Jerk. (_ _ーー_ _;)_

 **Wait, did you just find out? You’re crying now, aren’t you?** **(;** **・** **_** **・** **)** **ノ** **”( >_<** **。** **)**

_I’ll be at the venue._

_Also, I hope your train crashes and you die in a fire._

**It’s nice to see you’re in a good mood. I’ve missed you, too! See you soon!** **(´ε** **｀** **)** **♡**

 

Haise texted his father next.

 

_I made it to the semifinal round._

**Good.**

 

Haise’s heart sank. He shouldn’t have expected anything, but anything more than a single word would have been nice.

“You okay?” Hide noticed Haise’s expression. He had gone from smiling to suddenly irritable in a matter of seconds as he tapped away at his phone.

Haise shook his head, “My brother is already on his way here. I texted my father, but-”

It always weirded Hide out when Furuta did anything halfway decent, though when Haise was involved, he seemed to behave as a completely different person.

“He was that excited, huh?”

Haise shook his head, “I just need to get back to the practice room.”

Just then, his phone went off again.

 

**Congratulations, Haise.**

_Thank you. I’ll keep you updated._

**Take care of yourself.**

_Yes! I am!_

**Good.**

 

Haise smiled.

“That was him again?” Hide asked, his eyes never leaving Haise.

“Yeah,” his smile grew wider, “he congratulated me this time.”

Hide smiled warmly in return, “Good, good.”

Haise realized he needed to get into a practice room. “Hey, I’m going to-”

“They’re asking for interviews, Haise.” Tsukiyama had been focusing on the other announcements following the semifinalists.

“What?” Haise blinked. He hadn’t been expecting anything like that.

“They want to interview each of the semifinalists- no more than five minutes it seems.” Tsukiyama crossed his arms, “I don’t remember them doing that last year.”

Haise said nothing.

Tsukiyama noticed Haise’s apprehension and his voice became honey, “You don’t have to.”

Haise shook his head and watched as a few of the audience members, likely the contestants, began to move from their seats to head down to the stage floor. “No, it will look bad if I don’t.”

“You’re really under no obligation to-”

“I am, though,” Haise interrupted him, “I have to head up to the front?”

Tsukiyama wouldn’t argue it. It was true that, especially with there being so many Japanese judges, it would look bad not to participate in the interviews even if they were voluntary. His mentor answered him quietly, “Yes, but they’re going in order of the semifinalists that were announced just now.”

Haise sighed, “So I’m last? Got it.”

“You want me to come?” Hide offered, concerned over what had happened last time Haise had been on stage.

“No, no, I’ll be fine.”

Haise’s smile was so convincing Hide almost believed it.

 

* * *

 

 

“Contestant 41, representing Japan, Arima Haise.”

Haise walked out and there was polite applause.

He sat down across from one of the hosts. A translator sat beside the host. He wouldn’t need it, but his responses would be translated into English since it was the most common tongue among the participants.

“Arima-san, as the youngest contestant ever to participate in the Sendai International Music Competition, how are you feeling now as you move on to the Semifinals?”

“Fine, thank you.” Haise was smiling but already feeling sick. He hid it well.

“Arima-san, word has it that you fainted after your first performance. Is the pressure too much?”

“Ah,” Haise blushed. He hadn’t expected anything like this; he tried to think quickly, “I was too excited,” He laughed to cover how nervous he was, “Once it was over, I experienced a bit of Vertigo. I’m a bit anemic, actually. It has never gotten in the way of my success thus far however.”

“Success, indeed. Eager to perform at the Gala, then?”

“I hope so,” Haise began feeling nauseous, his throat dry.

“Good! Speaking of your successes, you won Japan’s National Youth competition, didn’t you?”

“Yes, that’s right. There were many talented people there. I was very fortunate.” Haise focused on smiling.

“So modest. Is there anything else you’d like to share?”

Haise nodded, “I am very honored to be here among all of these talented musicians. Taking the stage with them, I feel as if I’ve already won.”

“Thank you for joining us, Arima Haise.”

Haise stood and bowed as more polite applause could be heard.

Hide was waiting for him off stage, and Haise grabbed his arm and pulled him away without a word.

Hide went with it at first, assuming that Haise just wanted to be as far away from the stage as possible, “You did so well, Haise. Man, that guy went a bit far with that second question but-” He stopped talking. Something was wrong.

Haise pulled him away from the stage, out into the hallway, and down into an empty practice room.

“Hey, Haise, are you okay? You-”

Haise shut the door and didn’t turn on the light. He pushed Hide into the wall suddenly, grabbed the collar of his shirt, and pulled violently to expose as much skin as possible. He bit down, blood, like honey, suddenly filling his mouth. He felt his throat relax and his nausea subside. He didn’t tear away at the muscles or skin, but simply let the blood spill and flow into his mouth and down his throat. He’d needed this. And now that he’d gotten he-

Releasing his grip, hands shaking, Haise slowly pulled away. The light from the hallway colored most of the room with light save for the shadow the door created that the two stood in. Haise’s mismatched eyes met Hide’s wide brown ones.

Blood colored his lips and dripped down his chin. “H-Hide, I’m so sorry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omake:
> 
>  
> 
> **This is a reminder from your father to sleep.  
> **  
>  (⌐▨_▨) ｡｡｡zzz  
> Did you get it, Haise? The glasses.
> 
>  
> 
> _Yes, Papa. (^^)ｂGoodnight._


	17. Chapter 17

“Okay, first off, I’m okay. Second, I need you to be okay. Like, I’m really surprised it took thirteen years before you finally took a bite, because honestly, if I were a ghoul, I _totally_ would have done so already out of curiosity _alone_.” Hide did a one-quarter turn as if he were asking someone else, “Does Haise taste as sweet as he is?” and then again to his left as if he were asking someone new, “Does he taste different when he’s sad or annoyed?” He gesticulated surprise with his hands and gave in to dramatics, “He just ate an entire cake in one sitting!? If I bite him now, will that be what diabetes tastes like?”

Haise was crying, but as Hide went on, he struggled with the laughter that began to pour from his mouth, “H-Hide, that’s - it’s not even funny.”

“And also, if I were a ghoul, I’d want to know what _everyone_ tastes like. My friends, you know? Touka and Ayato live above their uncle’s coffee shop, right? So like, does their skin taste like coffee since they’re around it all the time?” Hide kept going as if he were suddenly performing a comedic stand-up routine.

Haise covered his mouth, feeling shame over his smile as he continued to fight down laughter, “That doesn’t even make sense.”

“But these are totally things I think about. These are _need to knows_. So, Haise, having really no concept honestly, I’m shocked it took you this long?” He waited a second and when Haise didn’t respond, he went on, “I’m pretty delicious, aren’t I?”

Haise shook his head _‘no_ ’ as his hand still floated in front of his mouth to hide his smile.

“I knew it- _YES!_ ” Hide actually jumped in that moment with his fist in the air, “I’m _delicious! I knew it!_ Oh man, maybe I shouldn’t be so excited, though. Those lady ghouls’ll be after me. I gotta keep it cool.”

Haise finally burst out laughing. His arms went around his stomach and his whole body shook as he simultaneously laughed and cried.

Hide watched him a moment- just in case. Satisfied that he’d calmed Haise down, he laughed, too. A few minutes later, when Haise appeared to have composed himself, Hide spoke again, “I know you don’t want to hear this, but I’m worried about you, Haise, and not just because of this- Man, you barely broke skin; I’ll be fine.”

“I’m so-”

“Don’t apologize. Please, don’t _ever_ apologize again. We’ve been together thirteen years- over a decade. I’d give you my left arm if it meant you might be happy and healthy.” He put up his hands defensively, “Now I know it hasn’t come to that, so calm down. I’m just saying- Please, let me help you. We’re best friends.”

Haise stared at his best friend for a long moment. He wanted to trust Hide; he really did. Hide had never broken his trust. Hide had never judged him. Hide . . . he genuinely cared for him, so maybe-

“I don’t have my phone, so, could you text Tsukiyama-san and ask him to bring me something to eat?”

Hide smiled and gave a thumb’s up with his left hand while he reached for his phone and began to text Shuu with his right.

“Could you go receive first aid?” Haise stepped closer, “Are you sure it wasn’t that bad?”

“It’s fine.” Hide laughed and covered the wound with his hand and stepped back into the wall. “As soon as Tsukiyama-san is here, I’ll go.”

“Thank you.”

“Is it the competition?” Hide offered the floor for Haise to vent.

Haise still wouldn’t take it, “Yes, it’s very stressful, but I want to do my best.” He wiped his face with a handkerchief in his pocket and smiled again as he folded it back and pocketed it, “Thank you for being here for me every step of the way.”

Hide rolled his eyes, “What did I tell you about thanking me?”

 

* * *

 

 

Haise wanted to be okay.

After what had happened with Hide, he thought he couldn’t be. Then, Hide said all of those things, and he was sure he’d be alright again, but- But here he was still waiting for that moment where he was sure he would be okay again.

He’d been left alone not thirty minutes and it was already too much time inside his own head. He tried to grace his fingers over the black and white keys, but he was hitting them too hard. He’d eaten. Hide had gone to get first aid. Tsukiyama, after being assured a million times, had gone to find the schedule that would start in three day’s time. He had three days left to prepare.

His brother would be here at the venue within the next two hours. At least he had him on his way. He could- He could-

He could what?

Haise blushed and felt the sting behind his eyes warning him he was soon to start crying all over again.

He could _use_ his brother. For _food._ For _sex._ For whatever brought him temporary stability.

Tears began to fall.

What was he doing? No, what was worse, was he attempting to do the _same_ with Hide?

“I’m so-I’m so disgusting.”

He gathered his things and did his best to hold back tears until he was out of the public eye. He couldn’t play.

Haise, spirit broken, made for the hotel.

 

* * *

 

 

Hide found him first. He had a card key to the room, so he let himself in to see Haise lying in the middle of the bed, his face red and flushed as he slept as if he’s been crying. Hide moved closer, carefully, allowing Haise to sleep. Were those gray hairs?

Hide sighed, “You can’t keep doing this to yourself, Haise.” He texted Tsukiyama and Nimura to let them know where he was and waited in the chair at the desk in Haise’s hotel room.

 

Less than ten minutes later, there was a light knock at the door. He opened it and walked out to speak to Nimura.

“Why aren’t you letting me in?” Furuta, over the years, had taken to acting with a horrendously fake, at least from Hide’s perspective, charm around others. Unfortunately for Hide, he was only treated with such pleasantries when Haise was around. His attitude was often disagreeable when the two interacted alone.

“Chill. I just thought I’d speak to you here since he’s asleep.” Hide put his hand in his hair and searched for the right words to say, “Haise isn’t handling this pressure well. He really needs all of us to support him right now.”

Nimura frowned. There was a bandage over the top of the trapezius muscle on Hide’s left side- where Haise normally bit into himself. Furuta narrowed his eyes, “I don’t need you to tell me that. I’ll take care of him- as I’ve always done.”

Hide had to restrain himself from asking if that was really the case. He mirrored his tone, “Whatever. Just do it, because he needs someone he thinks understands him right now, and he’s not- I know he’s not telling me everything. I’m _counting_ on you.” As much as it disgusted him to admit it, it was true.

“Disgusting. I’m _here_ for _Haise_ , not for _you._ ” Furuta’s pretty plastered smile appeared, “And of course, he doesn’t trust you. I wonder how he’d react if he knew how long you’ve been lying about not becoming an investigator?”

“What?!” Hide glared. How could Furuta possibly know?

“Why, it only took one quick glance through the cadet applications to see your eloquently worded letter over how you’d like to follow in the footsteps of your dear mommy and daddy in protecting citizens from the _monstrous_ ghouls.” Furuta gesticulated dramatically with each word as if narrating the whole thing- ending on the depiction of the wretched creatures that plagued the streets of Tokyo.

“What _is_ your _problem_?” Hide grit his teeth. No, he knew exactly what Nimura’s problem was. He’d known him as long as he’d known Haise. He knew that Furuta had never even accepted the ghoul side of himself. And here Hide knew, but he didn’t dare say a thing. “Just- you’re not even worth my time.”

Nimura smiled. He counted it as a win and held out his hand, “Card, please.”

Hide didn’t want to hand it over, but arguing it would be suspicious. Furuta was Haise’s brother; it was more appropriate that they room together. He pulled it from his pocket, but before placing it in Furuta’s waiting palm, he whispered, “Help him, or I swear to you I will prove to you that you aren’t the only one good at _learning_ secrets.”

Furuta snatched the card, stuck out his tongue, and pulled at one of his eyes in a childish mocking expression, “I win; you lose.”

Hide just shook his head and walked away. How could he trust Haise to someone like _that_? He thought upon all the times he’d seen Haise in trouble and Furuta rush to his side. But . . . could that ridiculous brother of his really save him from something like this?

 

* * *

 

 

Haise didn’t wake until almost seven at night, but Furuta was beside him playing a game on his phone when he did.

Haise latched onto him almost immediately, “Nimu-nii . . .” He felt groggy and sluggish and hungry.

Nimura pulled away and handed him a glass of water, “You’re probably dehydrated.”

Haise sat up and drank the water quickly, handed it back to him, and whispered a ‘thank you’.

“You were asleep nearly seven hours.” Nimura left his tone of voice empty. Had Haise not slept the night before? He was practicing? Or he was with Hide?

Haise moved closer to him and his face in his neck. From the way he was nosing his collarbone, Furuta couldn’t place if Haise was being affectionate or if he was hungry.

“Did you not sleep last night?”

“No, I did. I just felt exhausted. I think I’m better now.”

Furuta could feel his brother’s tongue on his neck.

“I’m so glad you’re here-” Haise bit lazily into Nimura’s flesh, swallowing the small bit he’d taken whole and licking and sucking at the blood that began to bubble out.

“Haise?” Nimura whined as he sent fingers into the other half-ghoul’s black hair, “you just want me as a snack! You just missed my taste!”

Haise trailed bloody kisses up Nimura’s neck and protested, “No, no, I missed you, too. I’m just hungry.”

The image of Hide’s bandage flashed in his mind, and he couldn’t help but feel even more suspicious, “Haven’t you been eating what Arima sent you up here with?”

“Hmm,” Haise didn’t answer the question.

Nimura’s voice dropped an octave lower, “And Mado? He wasn’t enough, either?”

Haise pulled away, his chest rising and falling with each breath, lips a familiar red stained in his brother’s blood. His eyes were wide, and he waited. He waited for his brother’s wrath.

Nimura put his right hand underneath Haise’s chin and lifted it slightly. Haise moved to sit on his knees and pulled his hands away. He submitted himself completely.

He hoped Nimura would punish him.

He deserved it.

Nimura traced his thumb over Haise’s bottom lip. “What else did you do with him?” The backs of his fingernails traced over Haise’s left cheek, smearing his own blood in the process, and his hand slipped into black hair and pulled.

Haise’s head yanked back as Nimura abruptly pulled to expose his neck. “Did he kiss you here on your neck?” He placed surprisingly chaste and gentle kisses down his little brother’s neck.

Haise shut his eyes tightly. He imagined his brother’s mouth wide as he sank his teeth into his neck and ripped away skin. He imagined his brother’s quinque knife slicing across his throat and the waterfall of red that would follow.

Nimura’s left hand sank between Haise’s legs. “Did he touch you _here_?” Slender fingers pulled the zipper on Haise’s pants and soon his ungloved hand wrapped around Haise’s length and began working fingers in all too familiar places. “Just the way you like?”

Haise gasped but did his very best to remain still. He was bracing himself for his brother’s anger. It was clear that he knew he’d bitten his best friend. It was clear that he was jealous. It remained to be unseen as to whether or not it was a punishable offense in his eyes.

Haise shuddered. He hoped it was.

Nimura’s expression went blank. He released him suddenly, moved off the bed, and stood.

Flushed and wanting, Haise remained on his knees in the bed. He watched Nimura’s back. He _waited_.

“N-Nimu-nii?”

And then the laughter came peeling out of Nimura like a demon escaping its thousand-year prison. He didn’t turn around.

“Nimura?” Haise rarely said his full name, but the laughter made his skin crawl with something between fear and concern.

The laughter stopped suddenly. “That was something only you and I shared.”

Haise’s eyes searched his brother’s back. This was worse than any sort of physical abuse. “Nimu-nii, I’m sorry. I promise that-”

“Shut up!”

Haise moved to grab him, but Nimura moved away, turning to look at his brother nearly fall from the bed in his desperation, “Why am I here if I can just be _replaced_?!”

Haise felt tears fall from his eyes. How many times had he cried today? “No, Nimu-nii, it’s not like that! I was just so hungry. I promise; I barely- Nothing else happened!” He wiped his eyes, scared from the way his brother was looking at him- like he’d been _betrayed_. “Please, Nimu-nii, I love you.”

The laughter returned.

Haise could only watch.

The demon that had long been asleep inside his brother had escaped, and it was all his fault.

His fault alone.

  
Maybe, he’d have to exact his own punishment.


	18. Chapter 18

The next three days flew by. Haise practiced for the entire day. He’d wake at six and be waiting at the door of the venue to get a practice room. Tsukiyama would join him later to critique and encourage him. Hide would be in and out. Nimura, the same. He’d practice until Hide ushered him out at eleven thirty at night, and then he’d make for his hotel room where his brother would inevitably be waiting.

It was the third night and the night before the semifinals.

As he had done the past two nights, Haise showered, got ready for bed, and then joined his brother in bed.

As he had done the past two nights, Furuta waited for Haise to get into bed, opened his arms so his little brother could bite into his flesh, and then he fucked him into a state of euphoric exhaustion that sent him quickly to sleep.

This night had been slightly different from the last two.

 

For one, Hide had come to check on Haise. It was the night before Haise’s next performance and Hide felt too nervous to sleep himself, so he couldn’t imagine the nerves Haise was having at the moment. His fist stopped short of hitting the door to the hotel room that Haise and his brother shared.

Hide paled. The sound was faint, but very distinct, and his imagination sent him one place and one place only.

In shock, he pressed his ear to the door and the sound traveled clearly.

“Uh-uh-uh-un-Nimu-nii- _harder-harder_ -yes-uh-please- _please-_ ”

Slick, wet bodies slamming together in an unmistakable act.

“Please-yes _-yes-ah-please-take me harder! Harder!_ ”

Hide pulled away from the door, staring at it as if he could see through to every unspeakable thing happening behind it.

_“Hide, have you had sex before?”_

_“I just find it relaxing.”_

_“ . . . do you think it’s weird if I want to  . . . with men . . . exclusively?”_

_“I’ll take care of him- as I’ve always done.”_

_“I win; you lose.”_

And, he walked away.

It couldn’t be possible; it just wasn’t possible.

Hide refused to believe it.

 

And secondly, Nimura finally spoke to Haise.

They collapsed in the bed, and Haise pulled a hand towel off the nightstand to clean them off. Nimura had mostly healed from Haise nibbling on him before they’d had sex, and what was left was red, slightly bruised new skin.

Nimura sat against the pillows that were stacked against the headboard and pulled Haise close to him.

“I won’t share you, my dearest Haise.”

Haise smiled, relieved, “You won’t have to.” He sighed happily, completely relaxed, and melted into his brother’s chest.

Nimura absently slid fingers up and down the other half-ghoul’s left arm. “I need you,” he admitted quietly.

“I’ll always be yours, Nimu-nii. Just as I always have been.”

Nimura’s tone held a soft growl, “Don’t use the word _always_.”

Haise’s stomach growled.

Nimura frowned, “The food Arima sent with you?”

“It’s finished.” Haise finally admitted quietly.

Nimura pulled away suddenly, “Haise, why didn’t you say something? What about what I came with?”

“I finished it yesterday.” Haise kissed his chest sweetly, clearly very tired but lazily hungry. He didn’t want his brother to worry.

“Haise . . . that’s too much.” Nimura’s tone lost all gentleness.

“You’re enough until-”

“For possibly the next six days? At the rate you’re going?” Nimura’s tone stayed mildly threatening.

“Five. When I make it to the finals, Papa can bring something.” Haise’s kakugan was still visible. He often lost control of it when they were violently intimate. “You make me feel self-conscious. I don’t eat that much.”

“I didn’t think you did, but we sent you enough for-”

Haise wouldn’t let him say it. He didn’t want to hear how much he was overeating because he was honestly _ravenous_. “I’m just stressed. I’ve been under a lot of pressure.”

“Right, I get it. I’m more than happy to assist you.” Nimura’s tone only lightened slightly. His mood was a constant imbalance.

“Don’t say it like _that._ ”

Nimura made his voice higher in pitch, “ _Anything_ for you, my _dear_ Haise.”

“Stop that!” Haise bit at his skin as punishment but didn’t draw a single drop of blood. He was being careful. What if he made his brother angry?

“I wonder. If we stain these sheets, do we have to pay for them?”

Furuta’s smile gave Haise the courage to sink his teeth into him once more. He shifted to sit on his chest and watch the single trail of blood fall. Was his brother’s blood a drug? He felt hypnotized at the sight of it like he’d lost all reason. Entranced by the scent, he closed his eyes and ran his tongue over his teeth. Nothing tasted like his brother- not whatever Papa would bring home to him. Not Hide. Not himself. Nothing. Nimura was special.

Furuta’s smile shifted to something on the edge of genuine, “You want seconds, Haise?”

Furuta pressed the back of Haise’s head to encourage him. He hoped that maybe this time, Haise would take _all_ of him. Maybe he could be devoured by the only thing beautiful in this world. Could Haise simply eat away at his ugliness until he had some semblance of worth?

Haise, encouraged by his brother’s soft touches and breathy moans, continued to eat.

“Are you really trying to swallow me whole this time?” There was a smile in Furuta’s voice and a  tinge of excitement that sparked through his body.

Haise didn’t respond. He just continued eating away at the muscles beneath the skin, sending a shock of pain through Nimura when his teeth scraped bone.

Nimura sucked in air through his teeth, “Haise- _stop_.” As beautiful as the thought was in Nimura’s mind, being _devoured_ by Haise was _painful_. Being eaten alive was agonizing.

Haise still didn’t cease his meal. He didn’t respond or make any attempt to communicate.  His hands and nails pressed sharply at Furuta’s shoulders to keep him still as he continued to eat.

“Stop!” Furuta moved hands and reached for Haise’s hair, pulling on it as hard as he could to tear his little brother’s mouth from his chest. His brother was gone. Something else had replaced him.

Haise still wouldn’t stop.

Furuta felt his own kakugan crack into view- something that he rarely ever let slip. “I said, _STOP!_ ” he screamed, yanked suddenly at Haise’s hair and then, using all of his strength, kicked him violently across the room. There was a crack, a _snap_ , and a thump.

Nimura had seen it all.

Against the wall, a few feet from the foot of the bed, was a large, wooden television cabinet. He’d watched as Haise had been flung backward from his kick and his neck had snapped, hitting at just the right spot, against the sharp top edge of the solid wood only to drop flat to the floor.

Silence.

Nimura breathed heavily, trying to catch his breath. His chest a gaping wound of red, he crawled, hissing from the pain, to the edge of the foot of the bed.

Haise, mouth and chin bloody, eyes open and unblinking, lay dead on the floor.

Had Haise really been such a fragile creature all this time?

So good. So sweet. So purely ignorant of-

Nimura coughed, spitting up blood. He was barely healing and losing more blood by the second.

Nimura watched his dead brother for any sign of life as he bled out himself, and that’s when it happened.

Cherry black liquid seeped from the pores in his skin at the back of his neck and spread rapidly up to his hairline and down his back, stretching like an interwoven insect shell folding into and on top of itself down his spine. Haise blinked, snapped his neck back into place with a jerk and sat up, blinking. The now solidified cells fell away from his back and as soon as it’d appeared, it dispersed into the air as if it had never been.

It wasn’t a kagune. Nimura knew this. Whatever he’d just witnessed was not something he’d seen before.

Nimura stared at his naked brother as he licked his lips and his eyes stared blankly in confusion.

Nimura moved his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He was in an excruciating amount of pain, and on top of that, he’d just witnessed his little brother come back from death.

Haise’s nose twitched. He sniffed the air and then turned his head slowly so his eyes could fall upon the other half-ghoul. He smiled carnally up at Nimura and _growled_. It was the first time Nimura had felt like a meal; in Haise’s eyes, he was nothing more than _food_.

He deserved this.

Haise stood and reached over the bed for his still bleeding brother, “So much blood- please- let me-” The words came from his mouth, but were spoken by someone else.

Nimura couldn’t react. He submitted himself completely. He moved according to Haise’s whims onto his back as the smaller male crawled over him to lick and clean and suck.

“I killed you.” Nimura knew the words he spoke were more for himself than for Haise, his brother, who now, in his state of euphoria, appeared to be a world away.

Haise didn’t bite, but he continued to lap at the blood in Nimura’s open chest.

“Haise, I _killed_ you.”

Haise still didn’t respond but moved his body to have a better angle over his brother’s body so that his mouth could better access the curves of the muscles as they slowly twisted back together and his tongue could reach between the bones of his ribs before the muscles covered them once more.   

_“But you came back to me.”_

Nimura smiled. He felt disturbed, especially by the manifestation of the RC cells that had appeared down Haise’s spine, but instead of worrying, he just . . . laughed.

“Insane. My dear Haise, perhaps ‘ _always’ is_ appropriate.”

It was crazy, what they’d come to, but it didn’t matter because-

Nimura moved up onto his elbows and impulsively bit into his brother’s shoulder.

Haise smiled and laughed some as well. As Nimura continued to eat into him, Haise even gave a gratifying wail of pleasure.

“Are you feeling better?” Nimura watched as Haise’s skin quickly sewed itself back together. Alarmingly fast. He tasted new skin with each bite.

“ _Yes_ ,” he moved to give Nimura more access to him and rolled his hips into his brother’s lap. Nimura’s wounds continued to heal. He’d become nearly as monstrous as Haise. It was so disgusting, but it meant he’d be able to accommodate Haise’s lusts and desires more, so perhaps it’d all end up being worth it.

“You want this too?”

“ _Yes._ ” Haise swallowed a mouthful of his brother’s blood and leaned his head back in bliss.

“Quite thirsty, are we?” Nimura had never seen Haise like this, and struggled with the idea that is was both lovely and perverse at the same time.

“Hmm . . .” Haise’s eyes were no longer blank, and his single gray hue bore straight into Nimura’s soul, “I’m going to win tomorrow, Nimura.”

“Of course you will.” he felt a chill. Why was he using his full name again?

Haise sucked at the closing wounds on his brother’s chest, swallowed, and chuckled lightly. “I’m a god, and you- _you’re my ambrosia_.” He imagined this was what it felt like to be drunk. He was certain he could do anything in this moment.

Death was a high he never wanted to come down from.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, same day update. Tell me something nice?


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a particular part of this chapter that I would really appreciate you listen to a piano piece while reading. It drives home the emotion I cannot eloquently express through words.
> 
> When the line _"Through the third and final movement of Moonlight Sonata, he closed his eyes. "_ appears, please, if you can,[ listen to Beethoven's third movement of Moonlight Sonata. ](https://youtu.be/zucBfXpCA6s) Thank you in advance if you can. 
> 
> Thank you, either way, for reading this story that started out so fluffy and has become so . . . yup.

Hide waited at the other end of the hall at the small window beside the door to his hotel room. He was doing an excellent job of pretending to be interested in the Sendai scenery outside even if his eyes shifted constantly from the window to Haise’s door down the hall. As soon as he saw that familiar head of black hair exit the room through the open door, Hide bolted, smiling as if he’d just been on his way to greet him and _not_ waiting nervously for the last hour outside his hotel room.

“Haise, good morning!” _It_ hadn’t happened.

_“I win; you lose.”_

He’d imagined it. Hide was just tired and worried. It was perverse, sure, but it had all been made up in his head.

“Hide?” Haise smiled at his friend with empty eyes, “I’m heading to the venue now.”

Hide recognized immediately that something was off. “Yeah, buddy. You got there two hours early last time. You only have forty minutes now. Let’s go!” Hide tried not to look too much into it. His imagination would run wild. It had sounded _consensual_ , so why was-? No, no, it hadn’t happened. Hide took his hand to pull him towards the elevator.

_“Please-yes-yes-ah-please-take me harder! Harder!”_

“Wait.” Haise stopped and shifted, “We have time. I’m waiting for Nimu-nii.”

Hide did everything he could to hide his shock, “It takes ten minutes to get there and your check-in is in _fifteen_. C’mon.”

Haise shrugged, “Oh-ok.”

Hide ventured to ask as they waited for the elevator, “You alright this morning?”

“Yes, I’m fine.” Haise answered automatically as if he’d been expecting the question.

“That’s . . . good.” Hide struggled with the truth. Haise was lying to him; he had to be. Had Nimura said something? He’d never exactly come between Haise and his friendship, but last night- it-

_“Do you, Hide?”_

_“No, do you like men?”_

“What’s the secret? You got your nerves under control.” Hide swallowed. It wasn’t possible for Haise to notice how nervous he was; he was barely present as it was.

“I’m not worried, Hide.”

They entered the elevator, and Haise turned his head to look into Hide’s brown eyes, expression serene yet lifeless, “I’m going to win.”

Hide refrained from acting on his impulse to shake him. “Awesome.” He looked away. There was something seriously wrong with Haise; he’d never seen him act so _detached_. “Well, uh, that confidence certainly isn’t misplaced. You’ll be awesome, as always.”

 

* * *

 

 Haise played two pieces by Beethoven. First, he played one of the required pieces- Beethoven’s _Piano Concerto No. 4_. He then boldly followed it with a largely popular piece- _Moonlight Sonata_. He played all three movements flawlessly. Haise had been thirty seconds away from going over time, but he didn’t, so it wasn’t possible to be docked points for that. There were 21 contestants, 7 concerts each day with his being on the first, and only six would go on to the final round.

Through the third and final movement of Moonlight Sonata, he closed his eyes.

This audience was his.

This competition was his.

Tokyo was his. Japan was his. The world was his.

No human could conquer it. No ghoul could rule it. He was neither of those things. He’d died and returned seconds later. No mortal could hope to stop him.

These other musicians were nothing compared to him and soon they’d realize that.

And so would his father.

The death god of the CCG? Who so obviously must have killed his mother . . .

Haise was old enough to understand and put the pieces together now. It had been all too obvious all this time, but only now was he allowing himself to _accept_ it.

Why had Arima Kishou adopted him? Was it some kind of repentance? Was it because he was only half? Did his genetic makeup really mean he was allowed to live while others were not?

And what of all the other children his father had orphaned? Because they were ghouls, they deserved to die?

Death god of the CCG?

_Fine._

Haise had become a god as well-

Not just of music.

But of revolution.

What place did his brother have in this world?

Did protecting others really mean that others would have to die?

He didn’t need his father to apologize; he knew he wouldn’t, anyway.

Doing his job? Hide’s parents. Doing their job? The CCG served its purpose.

And what a wretched purpose it was.

He couldn’t look away from this anymore.

After last night, it couldn’t have been made any clearer.

Haise knew now that he was destined for something great. Something more.

He’d been raised human with a window into the world of ghouls. He couldn’t ignore what he and his brother went through, what Tsukiyama, even as a ghoul from a well-to-do family went through, what Fueguchi-san and her daughter Hinami went through, what Touka and her brother Ayato went through- and they were _fortunate_. Despite their struggles, they were still labeled the _fortunate_ ones.

Because the reality was that most ghouls were not educated.

Because the reality was that most ghouls were homeless.

Because the reality was that most ghouls had _no choice_ but to kill to survive. To _live._

Because they had been _labeled as undeserving of life._

He’d grown up with the education of the CCG. Ghouls were monsters, evil, and lived to kill humans and destroy families.

But he’d grown up watching those _ghouls_ struggle just to be happy- to protect their own families.

Had his mother died protecting him? Had his mother died finding food for him? And his real father? The same?

_He lived with and loved her murderer._

But he knew that Arima Kishou loved him, as well. And, he loved Nimura, too, even when Nimura’s true parent took no interest in him. Even when no one else at all seemed to accept him, Arima Kishou had.

What could he do?

Anything. _He could do anything._

What did he want to accomplish?

_Change._

How could he start?

Where should he start?

Did his life even belong to himself any longer?

If he was destined for something greater, did he even deserve to live it according to his own desires?

Death would come for everyone but him.

So why- why wouldn’t anyone _else_ risk their life?

He had the power to take everything into himself.

 

His performance left everyone in shock. Tsukiyama, even, who had been coaching him through it, did not expect the amount of speed and precision, passion, and _torment_ to come through during his performance. When Haise finished, the applause was not simply polite as it had been before; it was cacophonous- many in the audience standing as they clapped.

Sweating, Haise stood, bowed, and walked off the stage.

 

* * *

 

 

He disappeared.

Haise did not have his phone as it wasn’t appropriate to have on stage, so no one had any way of contacting him or finding his location.

He never went to a practice room. He never found any of them after the performance. He did not return to the hotel.

He was just . . . gone.

 

* * *

 

 

He returned two days later, the night before the results would be announced, to the hotel room at nearly ten at night. Nimura wasn’t there, and that was for the better. He showered, threw away his clothes, and left to find Hide. Hide was not in his room, so he made for Tsukiyama’s next.

“Mon cher, we’ve been quite worried.” Tsukiyama’s voice was even as he pulled Haise into his room and began rummaging for the phone he was sure Haise would inevitably ask him for.

“I’m sorry. You have my phone. May I have it, so that I can contact them?” Tsukiyama noticed that Haise’s voice once again carried that gentleness it had _before_ the morning of his last performance.

The ghoul handed over the phone and sat beside the half-ghoul, concern etched in his face. “Arima-kun, if this competition is too much pressure, please know that-”

Haise stood and flashed his mentor a smile, “It’s _not_. I’ll see you in the morning, Tsukiyama-san.”

Tsukiyama was not satisfied, but he was sure Haise would speak to Hide or Furuta regarding his troubles. He had never managed to become quite so close to the half-ghoul, much to his displeasure. He was never completely honest concerning his feelings towards the half-ghoul, either. Perhaps it would make Haise uncomfortable, or, on some level, upset him. Tsukiyama would not take such a risk and was happy enough with the place he had in Haise’s life now.

“They’ll announce at eight tomorrow morning, so we’re heading over at seven. See you then, mon coeur.”

 

* * *

 

Haise quickly texted his best friend and his brother telling them both where he was and that he would be going to sleep. Furuta sent him an emoticon. Hide’s message had been much more lengthy. Haise only skimmed it before lying down to sleep. He didn’t want to feel guilty, and there was nothing wrong with avoiding things that made you feel bad, was there?

 

* * *

 

When Furuta walked into the dark hotel room, he did not even check the room for Haise. He could smell him. That was enough. He gave a sigh of relief. After he showered, he carefully crawled into the other side of the bed. He felt in the dark for Haise’s hand, brought his fingers to his lips, and kissed them softly. He couldn’t imagine what had possessed Haise to leave him, but he was back now. That was all that mattered, right?

Haise, awake now, pulled his hand away, shifted to sit up, and turned on the table lamp on the nightstand on his side of the bed.

There were circles beneath Nimura’s eyes. His face seemed drawn out and tired like in the last two days he’d aged ten years.  

Haise smiled gently as he took both of his brother’s hands in his.

Nimura didn’t speak.

Haise brought his brother’s hands up to his neck and closed his eyes, “Kill me again.”

“What?” Nimura pulled his hands away and Haise didn’t fight it. “ _No._ ”

Haise’s smile would not fade. He opened his eyes sleepily, “Please, Nimu-nii.”

“Haise-” Could he even hear himself right now? Was this his fault? No, of course it wasn’t.

Still smiling, Haise spoke with a pleasant lilt in his voice, “If you don’t do it, I can just ask Hide.”

“What?” Nimura sat up suddenly and looked Haise over. His eyes narrowed, “What are you _saying_?”

Haise appeared unaffected by his brother’s reaction, “If you won’t give me what I want, I’m sure Hide will.”

Nimura backhanded his brother across the face. He only hated himself a little for it.

Haise turned his head, kakugan now exposed, to look Nimura in the eyes again, his smile never fading, “Why are you so bothered by that, Nimu-nii? Is it because he’s human? But you’ve always _hated,_ ” Haise reached a hand up to trace a finger around his brother’s right eye, “- _this_ side of yourself, _haven’t you?_ ”

Nimura grabbed Haise’s wrist and squeezed it threateningly, “If this is a new game you’re playing, Haise, remember that I tend to cheat.” His smile was fake; he didn’t like this _game_ at all.

Haise shook his head and watched him thoughtfully, eyes speaking tender understanding, “Both of us must consume humans to survive; we’re more _ghoul_ than human. Yet _you_ \- you’ve never accepted that, have you, Nimura?”

Nimura’s right hand reached suddenly for Haise’s throat and slammed his head against the headboard of the bed.

Haise put up no resistance at all and continued smiling; Nimura began to laugh, “Can you maybe chill?”

Haise grinned, acknowledging the reference, “How ‘bout maybe _you_ chill?”

Nimura increased his grip, “But that’s not how this game is played is it?”

Haise was still able to speak though it was a bit of a struggle, “What’s so wrong with being a ghoul, Nimu-nii? I want to know. Is it because you want to feel connected to your real father, Yoshitoki Washuu?”

“ _Oh no, you didn’t_.” Nimura added his left hand and his thumbs dug into Haise’s neck, pressing firmly on this trachea.

Haise coughed, choking now, but still attempting to maintain his smile as he face grew red.

“Who told you, Haise?” He pressed harder, “You’re saying all of this now so I’ll hurt you?! What the hell happened to my cute, dear Haise?! I don’t want this!”

Haise’s eyes were half-lidded as his body struggled for air. It was clear to Nimura that Haise was getting exactly what he wanted- that he was _giving_ Haise _exactly what he wanted._

Nimura squeezed and pressed even harder, his strength as a half-ghoul showing through as his fingernails broke skin and his fingertips disappeared in pools of blood.

Haise stopped struggling, but Nimura only sunk his fingers in further.

He realized then that he hated loving Haise.

Nimura watched his brother’s lifeless body lay there unmoving and still. His eyes were still open slightly, but it was clear they saw nothing.

 

Nimura waited.

 

“You wanted this!” He yelled at the corpse beneath him. “ _I_ didn’t want this! _You wanted this!_ ”

 

And he waited.

 

And waited.

 

Haise wasn’t coming back.

 

Nimura grabbed for his quinque knife from the nightstand on his side of the bed. Gripping it with both hands, he raised it above his head and drove it down aiming for the space just between Haise’s eyes.

He stopped just short.

Mismatched eyes blinked.

Nimura moved the knife and sunk it slowly inside his brother’s chest instead, and twisted it like fitting a key into a lock.

Haise coughed, some blood flying from his mouth to Nimura’s night shirt.

Haise smiled dreamily as the wounds on his neck began to disappear.

“Thank you, Nimu-nii. I knew I could count on you.”

Nimura had helped him confirm it.

What to do . . . ?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, guys, for spoiling me. Your comments encourage me a lot.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter may or may not please you hidekane/hidesasa fans. OTL

Hide, with Tsukiyama at his side, knocked on the door to the hotel room Nimura and Haise shared the next morning. It was seven fifteen and Haise had yet to appear to go with them to the venue to hear the announcement of the finalists. Tsukiyama appeared rather confident that Haise would move on. While Nimura and Hide had been out looking for Haise, Tsukiyama had watched all of the other performances. Haise had been the crowd favorite by a long shot, but that wouldn’t mean anything to the judges.

“What if he disappeared again?” Hide looked to Shuu, concern written in his endless brown eyes.

The pianist crossed his arms, “I really doubt that, Hide-kun.”

They waited in silence.

Tsukiyama tried knocking next.

A few seconds later, Haise opened the door, fully dressed and smiling, “Shall we?”

Hide took a step back to let Haise pass him and make his way to the elevator. Confused, he followed Haise as if on autopilot. Was he really going to let him get away with this? It had been so _selfish._ Haise had left without a word- gone off, in his condition, to gods knew where, and now he was acting as if _nothing_ had happened. He was acting as if he hadn’t worried them sick- hadn’t sent Hide into a panic over whether he might be hurt or alone or _dead_.

It wasn’t fair. This behavior was so selfish but-

But sometimes, Haise was selfish.

Sometimes, Haise didn’t tell him everything.

Sometimes, Haise shut him out.

Sometimes, Hide was left with no choice but to simply act his part- _supportive best friend._

“We missed you, buddy. Glad to see you back.”

 

* * *

 

 Sasaki didn’t go to the auditorium. In front of the entrance to the Grand Hall, he parted ways and explained that he’d be practicing in one of the practice rooms for the finals.

“What if they want another interview, Arima-kun?” Tsukiyama wouldn’t pressure Haise for anything, but his hands fidgeted nervously as if he suddenly had to do something with them or he would say something he shouldn't. The truth was that he didn’t want Haise to be alone again.

“I’m not interested. You can go up in my place if you like, Tsukiyama-san.” Haise actually winked in Tsukiyama’s direction and offered a pretty smile.

Tsukiyama blushed and looked away, flustered, “ _Pardon_? I would never!”

Haise laughed and turned his back to them to make his way to an empty practice room.

“Text me?” Hide turned to Tsukiyama with a serious expression, and Shuu simply nodded in response. Relief flooded him to know that Hide would be with the young half-ghoul.

“Hey, I’m coming, too!” Hide ran to catch up to his best friend and Shuu walked into the auditorium alone.

 

In the practice room, nothing was different. Haise didn’t say anything about his disappearance and he treated Hide the same as he always had. It was like the last three days, even that morning that he’d acted so strangely and yet had performed so magnificently, hadn’t happened at all.

Hide tried to acknowledge it, “Your last performance was really beautiful, Haise,” but, as always, he fell short of the real issue. No, he managed to avoid the issue altogether. He deserved a prize for being the least confrontational human being alive.

“Thank you,” Haise smiled as he played the piece he had chosen for the final, Mozart’s _Piano Concerto No.20_.

Tsukiyama had already texted to confirm that Haise would be moving on. When Hide had told him, he expected his friend to whip out his phone to let his father know, but he did nothing. He just kept playing without missing a beat. He smiled, and that had been the only recognition he had given that he was pleased to be one of six picked from twenty-one people.

“Honestly, I’ve never heard you play like that. I was here while you practiced, and it didn’t even sound anything like _that-_ though it was the same song. It was wild, you know?” Hide wasn’t doing his best at articulating himself. It had everything to do with how worried he was and how much concentration it took to hide _all_ of it.

“Thank you,” Haise smiled wider. He enjoyed the praise. He felt the same way. It had been his best performance yet. He was glad that Hide, his brother, and Tsukiyama had been there to see it. He was glad it had been recorded by the group hosting as well. The video had been uploaded to YouTube, but he had not watched it.*

“You gonna tell your dad about making it to the finals?” Haise questioned.

“Papa? Sure. I will tonight.” Haise kept playing with his eyes passing only from the keys to the sheet music in front of him.

“Cool,” Hide fell quiet.

What was left to say?

So much.

What was he going to say?

Nothing at all.

Hide pulled out a manga from his shoulder bag and tried to read on the floor against a wall as he usually did while Haise practiced. His thoughts were swimming with an infinite number of possibilities of where Haise had been the last two days, but at the end of it, all he could do was be grateful that he was back.

He just didn’t want to let him out of his sight again.

He couldn’t imagine his life without Haise in it.

He couldn’t-

Hide’s breath caught in his throat.

He couldn’t breathe.

_He couldn’t imagine life without Arima Haise._

Did he-?

Was he-?

He felt a pain in his chest and found his breath again- his heart now pounding in his chest and in his ears.

His life revolved around Arima Haise. It had since he’d met him.

He’d do anything for him- even willingly offer his body to be eaten if necessary.

He lied for Haise; he’d been doing so since he was five and had done so ever since.

He wanted to protect Haise, his well-being, and his happiness and-

Hide sat so that the large tankobon manga hid his face from view.

He was in love with his best friend.

How could he have not realized it?

 

_“I win; you lose.”_

 

Finally, those words made sense.

Hide wept in silence, and Haise never noticed that he never turned the page.

 

* * *

 

 The next few days were as normal as could be expected. Haise practiced. Tsukiyama coached him. Hide supported him. Nimura fucked him and fulfilled any desires he might have, though the elder of the two appreciated that he had not been _manipulated_ into harming his precious little brother again.

Arima was scheduled to arrive the night before the finals concerts. All six would be held in one day. Haise would be third. The three winners would be announced the following morning. The night the winners were announced, they would perform in the Prizewinner’s Gala Concert.

 

“I’m gonna get lunch,” Hide yawned from his position against the wall. It had three days since Haise had returned, and he had only let him out of sight at night. He was taking a risk in going to the Family Mart across the street, but he was making the gesture as a sign of trust as well. “You need anything? I’m just going to the Family Mart.”

“No, thank you.” Haise finished the second movement and stopped playing. “May I ask a favor, though?”

“Anything,” Hide responded without thinking.

“Let me sleep with you tonight?” their eyes met and Hide looked away almost immediately.

“What?” Hide quickly corrected his response, “I mean, sure?” He tried smiling. He was fine. Just over a week ago they’d spent the night together. It was nothing. If anything, it was good. He could be his support again and he’d be able to keep an eye on him to make sure he wouldn’t disappear.

Haise turned back and his eyes moved across the sheet music as he spoke, “Papa wouldn’t like it, I think, if he thought I was sleeping with Nimu-nii. He thinks we’re too close. I mean, he never says it; I just don’t want there to be an issue. I’m not sure I’m making sense.” He chuckled nervously.

“Sort of?” No, _it made perfect sense_ , but Hide was not ready to admit to that. “You don’t have to tell me why, just move your stuff into my hotel room. Here, gimme a sec.” Hide pulled out his wallet and handed Haise a key card, “This is the second card I have for the room. Come over whenever you like.”

Haise placed it on the stand beside the sheet music, “Thanks, Hide.” He turned again to smile up at his best friend, “Have I told you you’re the best recently?”

“Not recently.” Hide teased.

“You’re the best,” Haise grinned, and Hide almost believed it.

“I know,” he responded with a wink.

“I get that you know, but do you ever get tired of hearing it?” Haise teased back.

“Nope, never.” ‘ _Especially not from you,’_ is what he didn’t say.

 

* * *

 

 

By the time Arima had arrived, Haise had moved his things into Hide’s room and had already turned in for the night.

Nimura didn’t say anything, but when he saw Hide, he did manage a glare. He understood why Haise was doing what he was doing, even if he didn’t agree with it. To ask that he not be jealous was too much, but to ask that he keep quiet about it around their father wasn’t impossible.

Arima had hoped to see Haise when he arrived late that evening, but he understood when he learned his son had already gone to sleep. After speaking briefly to his older son, he made for the floor above them where the closest room had been available. He already felt proud that Haise had come this far. He was not ignorant to the fact that Haise was, through this competition, trying to prove something of himself and his talent to him. Arima had watched the performances online, the second one shocking him into a quandary over whether he should finally give in and offer his full support towards Haise’s dream of becoming a famous musician. He’d watched it two or three times in a row before deciding that no, it was still best he join the CCG so that he could protect him. He could still play and produce music here in Japan, after all. Couldn’t that be enough? Still, he was here as he had promised, and he was very much looking forward to seeing Haise in the morning.

 

* * *

 

 

“You avoiding your dad? You actually left the venue and returned to the hotel before eleven this evening.” Hide started the conversation as he spread toothpaste on his toothbrush. Soon, if it continued, his words would come out as muffled nonsense, but he figured Haise would probably find it funny.

Haise, already in bed, stared at the ceiling, “I might be. I just want to focus on the music.”

“Mon nawt phweezing ‘im?”

Haise did end up chuckling and his voice held a familiar endearing ring to it that Hide would never tire of hearing, “Yes, you idiot, and not pleasing him.”

Hide spit into the sink, “You know, Haise, you’ve spent your whole life trying to balance pleasing yourself and pleasing others. This is _your_ life; just live it without regrets.”

Haise let Hide’s words settle inside his mind a moment as Hide went back to brushing his teeth. After a minute, he finally asked, “What are you implying?”

Hide rinsed his mouth out and walked out of the bathroom after turning out the light. The table lamp on Haise’s side of the bed offered the only light, but it was plenty to see throughout the room. Hide walked to his own side of the bed, and smiled down at Haise, “You don’t have to worry so much over making others happy; the people who love you derive their joy from seeing _you_ happy.”

Haise felt a blush rise to cheeks as he processed the words, “What’s this all of the sudden?”

Hide laughed as pulled back the covers and got into bed beside his best friend, “Too mushy? Eh, sorry.”

Haise shifted his eyes to look at the ceiling again, “You’re including yourself, aren’t you?”

Hide, lying on his back and staring at the same ceiling, blushed, “I mean, yeah? Why wouldn’t-”

Haise’s voice cut in, tone sharp, “ _You can’t really be happy with that, Hide._ ”

“What?” Hide was nervous suddenly. Had he gone too far? Had he said too much?

Haise’s tone then fell something short of sad and he sounded like himself again, “You can’t really be happy simply _watching_ me be happy.”

Hide laughed it off and made sure his words were light as air, “I mean, I know a thing or two about making you happy, so I consider myself an _active participant._ ”

Haise shook his head and turned to his side to face Hide, “You’d be depressed if I were gone, wouldn’t you?”

“You mean if you left for music school?” Hide turned to his side to look into Haise’s face. He tried not to think about how beautiful Haise’s eyes were and how beautiful they had always been. He went on, “Not at all. You’d be doing what made you happy, and that-that’s all I could hope to ask for really. I’d come visit you of course. Maybe I’d score a cute foreign girl.”

“How often do you lie to me?” Haise asked quietly, his eyes searching Hide’s for the truth.

“What?” Hide sat up, “Where is this coming from?”

Haise sat up as well, “Nimu-nii said he found your application to become a cadet for the CCG. Did you even ever plan on applying to other schools?”

Hide’s eyes went wide. First, he mentally cursed Furuta Nimura who he only hoped would one day die in a fire. No, not really. He’d settle for the guy being taught a _lesson_. Second, his mind began to strategize his next move. He could continue the lie and say it was just a backup plan, but it wouldn’t hold water with Haise’s intelligence. Hide’s grades were too good. He’d make it into most schools in Tokyo. Haise would figure it out. He could tell the truth that he’d been lying all this time, and that he actually wanted to be an investigator. That would admit to Haise that he was untrustworthy, because he can gone so far- for months- to make the lie as true as possible. He could-

“It’s alright. I figured you would take after your parents. In my heart, I always knew, which is why I pressured you so much about applying to other schools.” Haise looked disappointed, but he didn’t appear angry.

“I didn’t want to worry you.” Hide spoke the first words that came to his mind. If he wasn’t careful, Haise would draw his own conclusions without him, and that would be unfair.

“I know.”

“I’m sorry.” Hide felt that now familiar pain in his chest begin to spread.

“I know.” Haise’s eyes lost their color, and Hide grew nervous. He could feel it in the air and see it in Haise’s expression. He was losing him. Haise was being replaced by someone else. Haise spoke hollow words, “But see, if what you said is true, maybe I don’t love you the same way you love me.”

“What?” Hide couldn’t follow.

“Even if it would make you happy to be an investigator, I still don’t want you to do it.”

“Haise . . .” Now it made sense, but Hide was too disturbed by Haise’s change to correct his line of thinking about love.

“ _You’re only human._ ”

Hide didn’t say anything. He was convinced Haise’s thoughts had been poisoned. Why now, he wasn’t sure. He wanted to blame Nimura, but even that wouldn’t explain why it was now that Haise was focusing so closely on the ghoul side of himself whereas before four months ago, he never once brought it up.

Despite the meaning in them, Haise’s words were still hollow, “I don’t want to lose you. I would rather fight in your place.”

Hide shook his head. He didn’t like this line of thinking at all. “Haise, you’re not making sense. That’s not how it works.”

Haise reached a hand out to Hide and his fingertips gently moved hair from his face, “What do I have to do, Hide, to keep you from becoming an investigator?”

Hide blushed from the gentle gesture, “Wh-what?” He didn’t understand what was happening, because Haise just _wasn’t acting like himself_ , “Haise, I-I mean, I just want to be able to protect others, you, and our friends, too-I-”

“And I want to protect you,” he interrupted and his fingers traced along Hide’s left arm as he spoke, “You said you’d give your left arm to keep me healthy and happy. What can I give you to keep you alive?”

Hide silently prayed that this conversation would just be over. It felt important, but he felt like there was no point if he wasn’t having it with Haise, “Haise, you’re overreacting. I’m not even on the force- and- and even if I was, do you have such little faith in me? I’m not incompetent. I can-”

Haise reached the same hand he’d been using to touch Hide to hold his friend’s chin, and then cup Hide’s face, and then slip his fingers downward, his middle fingernail cutting through stretched skin on his neck to leave a thin line of red behind.

Hide hissed and felt at his neck, immediately wiping the blood away with his hand. What was happening? Haise would never do this.

“If I cut you, you bleed.”

Hide rolled his eyes unamused, “Don’t even start-”

“But you can’t cut me back unless you have this-” Haise reached beneath his pillow to produce his brother’s quinque knife. He’d taken it without permission. It wasn’t the first time. He doubted Nimura would come looking for it let alone even care that it was missing.

When Hide’s eyes recognized the weapon as quinque steel, he narrowed his eyes, “Haise stop-”

Haise cut across his left palm and held it up for Hide to watch it heal, “If I am cut, I heal instantly.”

Hide said nothing. Something was not right. He’d healed much faster than what he’d read about in textbooks.

Haise’s tone was unforgiving, “ _You think I need you to protect me?_ ”

“Haise, that’s not what I mean and you know it. I-”

Haise put the knife beneath his pillow again, but his eyes never left Hide’s, “What do I have to do, Hide? What do I have to do to keep you from becoming an investigator?”

Hide said nothing; he had decided this years ago. It wasn’t worth having this conversation with the way Haise was acting, anyway. He couldn’t waste something so important on this imposter.

There was a quiet threat in Haise’s voice, “I’ll figure it out, Hide. I-”

“Stop talking like that!” Hide needed this to be over, but he hadn't expected himself to yell. He watched his own vision begin to blur, “Please, _please stop talking like that_.”

Haise frowned, barely affected by Hide’s outburst, “Like what?”

Hide closed his eyes and tears flew from him,. He steeled himself before opening them again. He sat up and Haise followed the action. Hide took a deep breath, “Like you’re _not_ Haise. Like you’re someone else. I just-I can’t take much more of it. _It feels like I’m losing you- like you’re disappearing to somewhere I can’t follow._ ”

“Hide?” For a moment, that familiar, gentle concern was in his voice and his eyes held color once more.

“I just want you to be happy, Haise. That’s all I want.” Hide wiped at the last few tears that managed to escape. It was the stress; it was just getting to him was all.

But then, as if flipping a switch, Haise, the one that Hide had grown to love over more than a decade, disappeared again, “If that’s true, then you won’t become an investigator.”

“Haise would never say that!” Hide’s eyes went wide, expression hurt.

“I’m saying it now.” Haise argued flatly.

“Fine. Fine! I won’t be an investigator. I’ll work in intelligence or something- just- fine- _I can’t lose you._ ” Hide couldn’t believe what he was saying. Did he really mean it? Would he go that far for Haise? Was he lying to him again? Hide covered his face with his hands. What had happened? He was the rational one, and Haise was the one who so often needed his help and support. What was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he get it together? Why didn’t he have the _right_ answer?

“I’m right here.” Haise scooted closer and wrapped his arms around Hide in an effort to comfort him; he was really just mimicking the actions Hide would do for him when he’d gotten upset over the years. He silently hoped it worked both ways.

Hide tried to calm down, “You’re here now, but- but sometimes you’re so far away. You’re right in front of me, but you don’t look or act like yourself- almost two years now. I’ve been so worried, I-

Haise let go of him and didn’t look at him but studied the pattern on the sheets of the bed, “You have to accept that people change.”

Hide’s words came out strung together, “I _do_ accept that. Haise, _I love you_. There’s _nothing_ you could do to change that, but that doesn’t change the fact that lately, especially in the last few months, and most especially this last week, you’ve-you’ve had moments where _you act like a completely different person_. Your tone is unlike _anything_ I’ve heard; like, you never talked to me like that in the past. You are worried over things that have _never_ been an issue before. You clearly _aren’t_ healthy, but you won’t let me _help_ you.”

“What?”

Hide just kept going, “Disappearing for _two days?!_ That’s _not okay! Never_ is that okay. We were so worried about you. I couldn’t sleep, and I’m sure the same could be said of your brother. Haise, I thought something really _terrible_ had happened to you; it was so unlike you not to say anything that I thought you had _died_ or something. I was so scared because-”

“You derive happiness from seeing me happy?”

“Haise-”

“That’s what you said, isn’t it? And what if I had died? What then?” Haise’s expression was blank, and it left Hide speechless.

“I-” It was like he couldn’t see anything where his face was. His eyes and nose and mouth were all gone; Hide tried not to scream.

Haise heard everything through Hide’s eyes.

Haise leaned over towards Hide. Hide shook his head madly, terrified because Haise had _lost his face_. Then, slowly, he felt Haise press his lips to his.

After seconds of Hide feeling shocked and lost, Hide kissed back with his eyes open, tears falling as he was able to make out the features of Haise’s face once more- his lips, his cute nose, his beautiful eyes and long lashes that came together when they closed. Haise opened his friend’s mouth with his tongue and seconds later, Hide was instinctively pulling him closer. Haise’s taste was so tempting, and the way he used his tongue made Hide desperate. He’d forgotten everything as the kiss deepened. Haise- he wanted nothing more than to bring him happiness. He wanted nothing more than to support him through anything, everything- to just see him healthy and successful and accomplishing whatever it was he wanted to accomplish. He-

Hide felt that same pain in his chest the moment Haise pulled away.

When he saw his friend smile, Hide was speechless. It was empty.

Completely empty.

And then, he understood.

“Intimacy is not a tool to get what you want, Haise. It’s an act of trust.”

Hide turned away suddenly, moving his whole body to lay on his other side, “Please, _don’t touch me_.”

Haise swallowed his words whole, but they would not digest properly. Something told him it would be some time before he understood them. He turned to lay on his back, remembering why he’d kissed Hide in the first place, “You will never have to make that face again, Hide.”

His best friend didn’t respond.

“I can’t die.”

Still, his best friend said nothing.

Haise took the hint and turned out the light, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Haise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I'm basing this concert very loosely off the actual Sendai International Music Competition which is going on right now. [All of the videos are released on YouTube (click on their names)](http://simc.jp/simc/video_en/piano-preliminary/); it's very beautiful if you are interested in listening.
> 
> Also, yes, Hide hallucinated a bit. Haise's face didn't actually disappear. Forgive me if Hide was more emotional than usual. Please consider it the buildup of not saying anything for nearly two years.
> 
> Thanks again for your kind and enthusiastic comments!


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, unbeta'ed~

 

“Haise?” Kishou had been waiting for his son outside the entrance to the auditorium the next morning. He was surprised to see that Haise was alone despite the fact that Nimura was a few paces behind him. It was curious that they had not arrived together, but no matter. It would be another two hours before Haise would play and, after having debated it all night, Kishou had come to a conclusion on a rather pressing issue concerning Haise- something he wished to speak with him about immediately.

The moment Haise’s eyes fell upon his father, his confidence fell. His father. He could believe himself a god, but standing in front of his father now, he felt like anything but. He admired his father- loved him and feared him. Arima Kishou was not perfect, but he was a threat to all ghouls, and Haise had become increasingly aware that he was made more of monster than of man, “P-papa?”

Arima’s eyes met Nimura’s briefly and Nimura walked past them into the auditorium, unnoticed by Haise. Kishou recognized the apprehension in Haise’s expression as their eyes met, “You’re nervous?”

“No,” Haise said quickly.

“No?” His father questioned, appearing slightly confused.

Haise corrected himself, “I mean, yes.” His father had come all the way from Tokyo to Sendai. He had left his post- his responsibility as the reaper of the CCG back more than three-hundred kilometers away. He was here for him- only to hear him play. It was an added pressure Haise was suddenly feeling the weight of. It settled on his shoulders like an old friend. He had to gain his father’s approval.

Kishou put a hand on Haise’s left shoulder, and his gray eyes behind his glasses bore straight through Haise’s own, “It’s okay, Haise. I realize what this competition means to you. You’re playing on a global stage. I’m proud of you.”

Haise nearly choked, “Proud of me?”

“Come here,” Arima directed him away from the auditorium, “You were headed this way?”

“To the dressing rooms, yes.”

“I’ll take you there myself.”

Haise did as he was told but protested as he entered an empty one and his father followed after him, “But, P-papa-I” Haise was already dressed and ready. He had only been on his way here to center his focus before the performance.

Arima shut the door to the room behind them. “Haise,” he said slowly, “. . . I can’t protect you forever.”

Haise stepped back until he was against the counter that lined the wall beneath well lit mirrors, “Papa?” He didn’t understand what was happening, and he wasn’t accustomed to surprises from his father.

Kishou, very seriously, told him plainly, “If this is what you want, I will accept it.”

“What?”

“You want to become a professional pianist, don’t you?”

“I-”

Kishou slowly began to smile as he watched the confusion in his son’s face, “You’ve wanted this for years. Hearing you play in the last trial, I think I better understand it now.” Arima put both of his hands on his son’s shoulders, “I will support your decision to become a pianist, Haise, but after you study abroad, you will return and stay in Japan. Is that clear?”

Haise’s eyes went wide. He processed the words; he heard them, but he could not digest them. This could not be called a surprise; it was a shock. “Papa, I-I don’t know what to say. You’re actually letting me-”

Kishou let go and nodded only once, “Study abroad, yes.”

Haise’s eyes darted through empty space at a spot in the room as he envisioned the path which had now been opened to him by his father, “But that means I’ll leave Japan. On a plane. For years.”

Arima’s faint smile was still present and he turned his head to side- a signal that he was bordering on concern, “Well, you’ll come back to visit, Haise. And you’ll return.”

Haise’s eyes found his father’s once more and they searched them for answers, “I don’t understand.” He had no idea what had changed his father; he was no longer even sure that this was what he wanted.

Kishou took a deep breath. He had already committed to this, so he would follow through on the decision he had verbalized, “Regardless of the outcome today, Haise, you’re already internationally known as a pianist. I cannot change what you are.”

_I cannot change what you are._

The words marched through Haise’s blood from his heart through his arteries to his fingertips and toes. “ _No . . . no, you can’t._ ”

“Are you unhappy?” Arima noticed a change in his son immediately- not one he felt for the better. Something was off in his words, his demeanor, and it had come so quickly, he felt his fist clench at the handle of the attache case he had left in the hotel.

Haise smiled suddenly, “No, no, no, no, thank you. _I’m really happy.”_ Haise struggled to find the words he was supposed to say, “I’ve- you’re right, Papa, I’ve wanted this for a long time.”

“Good.” Arima didn’t let go of his suspicion, but seeing his son smile brought him some amount of relief, “I’ll send a . . . doctor with you from the research division.”

Haise nodded, “Of-of course, Papa.”

“Good.” Arima leaned down and gently placed a single kiss on Haise’s forehead. kissed his forehead.

Haise froze, his heart clenching tight suddenly as it struggled to work properly. Haise did his best not to cry, abruptly overcome with emotion. It was very rare for his father to be affectionate and the warmth in his behavior now had happened so few times in Haise’s life that he could count the number of times on one hand and recount each of such rare occurrences in great detail.

Haise smiled with glassy eyes, and Arima smiled back at him.

“I’ll be watching from the sixth row with your brother,” and with that, he was gone leaving Haise alone to his thoughts.

His thoughts which, presently, had become so conflicted that they bordered on destructive.

His father had just given him what he’d wanted.

He could leave and study music, even as a ghoul.

His father, after all this time, was finally supporting him and his passion, but-

What did it mean? Leaving him? Leaving Hide and Tsukiyama? Leaving Nimura? Being alone.

_Being alone._

He couldn’t leave.

Haise reached to open the door wide and call after his father, “Papa-wait-”

“No, Tsukiyama-san. Haise and Furuta are not like that.”

In one swing, Haise shut the door to the dressing room. He put his ear against it to focus on their words. His hearing was better than most, so he’d at least be able to understand part of it even as Hide and Tsukiyama had just turned down the hallway in his direction.

“ _They are_. It’s clear as day. I don’t know why you’re so upset.”

Haise realized his action. Why was he hiding behind a door?

“They’re _brothers_.”

Haise paled. Hide’s tone wasn’t accepting or forgiving.

This was why.

“I mean, you haven’t known them as long as I have, but even still-”

In the hallway, Tsukiyama waved it off in an airy tone, “At least it’s harmless. _Laisse tomber.”_ His family had been inbreeding for years. Some of his relatives were _weaker_ than others. Shuu, himself, had not noticed any sort of illness or defect however. He was the picture perfect heir.

“It’s not?” Haise heard their footsteps stop as the tension in Hide’s voice gave his words an edge to them he was not familiar with. “Tsukiyama-san, you realize _who_ we’re talking about, right? Of all the relationships _in the world_ , this has to be, _by far_ , be the _worst_ one I could possibly imagine.” Hide didn’t just recall Haise’s words he’d heard behind the hotel door. He recalled every time Furuta insulted him. He recalled all the times he’d watched Furuta manipulate others. He recalled every moment he’d seen them together- Nimura practically bowing to Haise’s every whim. And then, he recalled Haise’s behavior the night before. He was too frustrated to cry. “It makes me sick just to think about it.” He wanted it to be undone; he wanted to remain ignorant. He felt like he’d watched this coming for years and he hadn’t done a damn thing to stop it.

Haise stepped away from the door, a hand finding its way over his mouth, and he took several steps backward as if the walls were closing in on him.

_They’re brothers._

_It makes me sick just to think about it._

_I cannot change what you are._

_You act like a completely different person_.

_Haise would never say that!_

Hide had never failed to support him in anything. Haise’s world rested on three pillars; should one of them fail, his world would tip and crumble.

_“I’ve . . . lost you, Hide?”_

Haise collapsed inside his own mind.

 

In the hallway, Tsukiyama’s features became knit in concern; he had never seen Hide as out of sorts as he had been this week. “You feel very passionately about this.”

The blonde folded and unfolded and folded the concert schedule in his hands as he spoke, “I don’t know what Haise is thinking. He can’t- Shit, this is crazy.”

Shuu crossed his arms, “Hide-kun, there is a possibility that I’m wrong you know?”

Hide shook his head. “You’re not wrong.” He wouldn’t cry; it just wouldn’t help the situation, “I just . . . had to hear it from someone else to believe it.” That had been weak on his part, and he knew that, which was why he was mentally berating himself for it that very moment.

“You were thinking it?” Tsukiyama raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

“There . . . have been signs.” Some had been more obvious than others.

“Haise-kun has not been well,” Tsukiyama agreed quietly.

“And Furuta has never been well,” Hide bit back without meaning any aggression towards Shuu in the least.

Shuu understood, but he did not respond either way.

Hide’s tone was quickly apologetic, “Tsukiyama-san, I’m just worried. He’s not making sense anymore.”

Tsukiyama put two and two together, “And you think Furuta is part of it?”

“If you’re seeing the same thing I am . . . maybe it’s a recent development? Maybe that’s why he-”

Shuu purposefully interrupted him, “Maybe, but Hide-kun, if you’re this concerned, shouldn’t you talk to Arima-kun about it directly?” Really, it appeared that a good amount of this nonsense and drama, however interesting, could be avoided.

Hide started walking down the hallway again, “He’s not listening to me.”

“Are you _trying_?” Shuu followed after him. “I haven’t known Arima-kun as long as the two of you, no, but long enough. I’ve watched the two of you with him. Perhaps you and Furuta-kun are not so different.”

Hide turned his head to look up into the ghoul’s face, “What do you mean?”

Shuu rolled his eyes and kept walking, “You’re smart, Hide-kun.”

“I want what is best for him.”

“ _Exactly._ ” Tsukiyama’s phone buzzed and quickly pulled it from his pocket to check the message, “Ah, _quand on parle du loup._ A text from Furuta-kun. Arima-kun isn’t in a practice room; he is already in a dressing room.” It meant Haise was mentally preparing himself. “We should just leave him be.”

“Yeah . . .”

They entered the lobby together to join the others in the auditorium, “I swear, Hide-kun, the amount of energy you spend on worrying about Arima-kun is shocking; no wonder you eat so much.”

“I eat so much comparatively, Tsukiyama-san, because unlike you, I’m human.” Hide said the last part under his breath, teasing slightly.

“Mon lapin, you don’t have to rub it in. You know how I feel about the limited ingredients I am privileged with working with.” Tsukiyama gestured dramatically mostly in efforts to distract Hide from their prior conversation.

Hide tried to smile, “Right, please don’t remind me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was going to be much longer, but I need to sleep. OTL Thanks, as always, for comments!


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry. The pacing really slowed down. OTL There should be two more chapters before another time skip?  
> Also, this is graphic.

Haise remained in the dressing room and his thoughts played out like poorly scripted dramas too disjointed and incomplete to weave a plot.

Haise still had Nimura’s quinque knife and he sat down in front of the mirrored wall of the dressing room. Haise lifted his pant leg and grabbed at the knife hidden there against his skin  and placed it in front of him on the marble counter.

Quinque steel.

Just in case.

In case of what?

He wasn’t sure.

No, he was sure.

Just in case.

Everyone was waiting. Papa. Nimura. Hide. Tsukiyama. All four of them were here to see him. Haise looked at the clock on the wall. He would go on next . . . in ten minutes. They were probably looking for him now, because he had never checked in backstage.

He had to decide now what he wanted.

He could not die.

And he wanted to play the piano?

He could not die.

And he wanted to leave his family and friends when he could be protecting them?

He could not die.

And of all the people in the world to abuse and use like a chew toy or a whore, he’d chosen his brother?

His eyes darted to his fingers that were now poised over the counter as if floating above awaiting opalescent keys.

These _things_. At the ends of his hands- his _fingers_. The tools that enabled him to play the piano- what made him a _pianist_ \- the _passion_ that was pulling him away from his brother and father and friends.

He didn’t need it where he was going. Where he was going? Where _was_ he going?

But _if they weren’t there-_ if they weren’t there then he wouldn’t have to play and he wouldn’t have to choose and-

Simple. He couldn’t play the piano if he didn’t have fingers.

Haise picked up the stolen quinque knife and began to cut away at his fingers, starting first with the left thumb. He stared blankly at the blood that spilled from the space where the short digit had once been. A thumb. Thumbs made humans different from animals. Would it matter either way for a god?

The blood moved across the marbled counter and pooled at the seams only to begin dripping down to the wood floor below with little noise like splattered paint.

Haise wished he had spent more time painting.

_They’re brothers._

Instead of fucking his brother.

Haise wished he had spent more time training.

_Intimacy is not a tool to get what you want, Haise. It’s an act of trust._

Instead of abusing the trust of his best friend.

Haise wished he had spent more time dead than alive.

_I don’t want this!_

Instead of selfishly putting the people he loved most through so much pain.

Quinque steel was so sharp. Cutting through his fingers was like cutting chicken bones. He just needed to give the knife a good _snap_ \- a final press of _pressure_ \- a quick and powerful _slice_. He strategically cut a finger off each hand at a time so that could still hold the knife- until the last thumb, the right one, he simply slid back and forth until it was severed a minute later.

So much red.

He held his hands up in front of him with bloody stubs where his fingers used to be; the red poured down his hands and arms, staining the sleeves of his shirt.

There. No more fingers. He never had to play the piano again. Stress gone.

Haise saw his reflection in the mirror and instantly his eyes shot to the white teeth in his smile.

What else could he get rid of? What else was not needed? What else kept him _addicted_ to making the _wrong decisions_ over and over again?

His teeth were weapons. He used them to _bite through his brother’s flesh_. His only regret now was that he couldn’t cut out his teeth- and his tongue. Like Hide said, it was wrong to love his brother, to taste him with this tongue, and to kiss him with these lips and to bite him with these teeth. It was selfish. He realized now that he’d _always_ taken what he wanted.

_Intimacy is not a tool to get what you want, Haise. It’s an act of trust._

His brother had trusted him, and Haise had betrayed that trust.

He’d bitten Hide.

He’d kissed Hide.

He’d manipulated his brother into doing something that broke him into even more pieces.

And it was all for Haise’s own sick, twisted desires.

Haise slammed his face suddenly into the marble counter in front of him hard enough to break his nose. Upon seeing his reflection, he realized that it would take an even greater force to knock out his teeth. Haise stood, the chair he’d been sitting in falling backwards behind him. He began bashing his head into the stone of the dressing room counter.

Again.

Again.

He pressed his palms against the edges of the crumbling counter to steady himself as his vision began to blur from the blood.

Again.

Again.

He felt teeth fall from his mouth.

Again.

Again.

Disfiguring his face beyond recognition, he continued until he lost consciousness, the counter crumbling beneath him in the final blow as his body fell to the floor in a bloodied mess.

 

* * *

 

 

The person who found him could not distinguish the features of his face and instead of informing the others that he had likely found the missing Contestant Number 41, he simply dialed 119. The ambulance arrived quickly to carry the no-name patient away.

Waiting in the auditorium, the four people closest to Haise silently panicked as more time passed. Hide had Haise’s phone and wallet so that he’d have nothing to concern himself with while on stage. There was no way to contact him to check his health.

Fifteen minutes after his assigned time, the host arrived on stage to speak into the microphone. She related that Contestant 41 had been withdrawn and the next contestant scheduled to go on in the next hour would still do so.

 

Arima stood and searched his son’s face, “Nimura, where is he?”

Nimura shook his head, “I don’t know.” He was hiding quite well how concerned he was.

His father would not accept the answer, however, “Why would he withdraw?”

“ _I didn’t think he would_ ,” Nimura crossed his arms.

Hide felt himself growing sick, “There’s something _wrong._ ”

“Excuse me? Are any of you family of Contestant 41?” A woman in a business suit approached them cautiously and Arima moved quickly to meet her at the end of the aisle.

“I’m his father. What is it?”

“He was withdrawn due to time, but we are concerned also for the contestant’s safety. Please come this way. He may have been taken to the hospital, sir.”

 

* * *

 

 

The reaper had been given little details and was not allowed back into the dressing room, but after answering a few questions with the police, Arima quickly made phone calls and arrangements to send the ambulance to the CCG Sendai Headquarters, or, if it had already arrived at the hospital, to transfer him to a _different hospital_ instead. The _research division_ of the CCG’s Sendai branch would receive him.

As soon as Nimura overheard the information, he had left without word to anyone, and once Arima caught Hide up to speed, he asked him to return with Tsukiyama to the hotel to gather their things.

With that, Arima left for the CCG Sendai branch.

“Hide, go.” As soon as Arima was out of sight, the cerulean-haired ghoul pushed the human towards the exit of the venue.

Hide didn’t understand. “Tsukiyama-san?”

Tsukiyama pleaded with his eyes, “You can get in, can’t you? Please, _help Haise._ ”

“Arima-san told me to-”

Tsukiyama’s eyes narrowed somewhat and there was an underlying venom in his voice, “You do everything as _that reaper_ tells you to?”

Hide understood why it was there. “No.” It was a wonder Tsukiyama was able to keep his cool around the famous investigator despite seeing him so often at Haise’s competitions and recitals over the years.

“Haise needs you. I will be fine. I would go there myself if I could. Please. _Go._ ”

The ghoul did not need to ask him again. Hide ran outside to call a taxi. He did not know what was happening, but he did not trust that the most emotionally invested people in Haise would be making the wisest decisions at the moment. He only hoped Arima would not attempt to solve whatever was happening with more violence. Was the research division of the CCG really the best they could do for Haise?

He wasn’t an experiment; he was a person.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for waiting and a huge thank you to commenters. This has not been beta'd, so it may be terrible.

 

When Arima arrived at the Research Division, he noticed immediately that it was understaffed. There was no one at the gate or at the front desk. He briefly took in the listed floors and numbered rooms for where things were located and headed towards the weapons department. IXA was in his hotel room, but if this were merely Haise, then even a Tsunagi would do if they had one available.

 

Unknown to Arima, Nimura had already arrived and had found where the research department had imprisoned Haise.

“He isn’t stable; it would be better if he were in Jejunum,” a doctor, who seemed to be in charge, argued. Nimura understood that to be the name of the prison adjacent here. No, over his dead body. Haise did not belong in prison- not or ever. He passed the doctor without a word, opened the door, and walked in, “Rank 2? Hey, you can’t go in there! Stop! That’s a half-kakuja ghoul!”

Nimura closed the door to the room behind him, relieved that he could no longer hear the screams of the few other researchers protesting his entry. The room was long and thin and without windows. Thankfully, it wasn’t poorly lit, despite appearing to be some kind of storage room. At the end of the room, against the far wall, he saw Haise as he’d never seen him before.

First, he noticed the single eye in the center of the mask over Haise’s face. Then, he noticed the two long tails growing from his back. Centipedes. A black liquid fell from around his face and from the stubs on his hands-

Fingers.

“Where are your fingers, Haise?” Nimura’s eyes were wide.

Haise gave a strangled scream in response.

_I’m a god, and you- You’re my ambrosia._

Nimura smiled as Haise, in his crazed half-kakuja state, ran towards him. He opened his arms and closed his eyes as Haise pounced on him suddenly, his palms slipping and bleeding over Nimura’s clothes as Haise ripped away at the fabric of his clothes with his teeth to get to the flesh beneath. Nimura fell to the floor, laughing as Haise ate away at him.

Nimura wasn’t sure how long Haise had been tearing into him when he heard the door

“Haise. Nimura. This needs to stop. Ghouls cannot eat other ghouls.”

Haise could not find his sanity, but as he continued to dig into Nimura’s flesh and swallow the blood and muscle beneath it, he was able to form speech. He could hear the words of his father bouncing around the room, but his thoughts were louder, “ _I’m just a ghoul. I’m just a ghoul. I’m a monster. I’m disgusting. Disgusting. Disgusting. Disgusting. Disgusting._ ” He was breaking down beyond help even as he physically began to heal with each new wound he inflicted on his brother.

Arima’s feelings remained hidden behind his glasses as he continued to step closer, “It destroys the mind. How long has this been going on?”

Haise struggled to rationalize what was happening as his thoughts became more coherent with the gnashing of his teeth. He wanted to eat- his brother- his brother- he could eat him but no- no he couldn’t eat. He didn’t want to eat anymore. He didn’t want to eat anymore.

In addition to the long, spindly centipede-like tentacles, four rinkaku tentacles appeared as he screamed in pain.

Nimura stared as his brother thrashed about, “Haise? Haise! Haise, listen to me!” He screamed at Arima “What’s happening to him?!” Haise’s mask fell away, and as the digits on his hands slowly grew back, more of the black liquid seeped from the pores in his skin down his backbone and out his fingertips.

Arima was wielding a simple Tsunagi, but even still, he walked with the intent and strength to put an _end_ to the matter- by any means.

Nimura struggled to stand as Haise, now behind him, thrashed about in pain, “Arima, stop! He’s sick! Don’t hurt him!” When Arima did not so much as slow his walk, Nimura’s eyes went wild as his kakugan emerged and his kagune emerged around him like the unfolding of Lucifer’s wings.

“So you _do_ have one?” Arima observed. He didn’t expect it- two such successful half-ghoul’s had been under his care and he had- he’d-

Nimura, barely able to stand due to the wounds in his gaping chest, was smiling at the man who called him ‘son’, “You’re raising a weapon against your own. Or were we never yours to begin with? Adopting us was a farce? They just needed the strongest investigator to take in the two most dangerous children?” He laughed to cover his bitterness. What would Arima do to them now- the two little, failed experiments? Would he really kill them?

“Please don’t make this harder on me, Nimura.”

“Harder on _you_?! You are a-”

Haise lunged to feast on his brother once more and before Arima could cut him down, a shot rang out from the doorway of the room.

“You can’t just take that!” One of the researchers yelled, but then backed away when his eyes had fallen on the scene in front of them. An RC suppressant bullet had landed in the back of Haise’s neck. Just as Nimura noticed who was wielding the weapon and as Arima looked over his shoulder, another RC suppressant was sent into Haise’s shoulder.

It was Hide.

Haise, still unable to gain control, continued clawing at his brother as his fingernails grew in black and bloodied.

Arima waited and Hide shot a third bullet into his best friend with the stolen rifle he’d taken from another floor of the facility.

Nimura fell to the ground under the weight of his brother, panting as he continued to bleed out onto the floor.

Arima walked forward and moved Haise aside with his shoe as the kakuja fell away and the rinkaku tentacles receded.

Hide shot a final bullet into Nimura’s heaving chest and Furuta fell back, flat on his own kagune. Arima held Tsunagi over Furuta’s right eye.

The truth was that Nimura wasn’t sure; he wasn’t sure Arima wouldn’t kill him now in this moment.

Looking up into the eyes of death, unlike Haise, he felt fear.

“What’s your name?” Arima followed the textbook procedure. He couldn’t allow his feelings to be involved in something this serious. What if he made a mistake?

“Fuck you.” Furuta’s kagune receded as well.

Arima frowned. This was a moment where he felt it was true. Perhaps Nimura _did_ hate him. “Title?”

“Forsaken.”

Arima squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again. “Where are you now?”

“Abandoned.”

He tried again. “Where are you now?”

“Lying beneath one of the only two people in the world I thought would never betray me.”

“You’re fine.” Arima walked away without checking on Haise or saying a word to Hide.

Hide ran past the Special Class Investigator after putting his gun down on the floor.

He went to his knees beside Nimura and immediately pulled the RC bullet from his chest and tossed it aside. He looked over Nimura’s wounds in shock. He looked like death; his chest and shoulders looked like something out of a Hollywood horror film-- bloody and open and exposed. He asked nervously, “Furuta-kun, are you okay?”

Furuta’s eyes narrowed, his expression exactly as Hide imagine it _always_ looked hidden beneath his impenetrable smiling mask, “ _Don’t touch me._ Check Haise.”

Hide moved on his hands and knees to his best friend. His jacket and blouse in the back had been ripped through from his kagune. “Haise? Haise?” He kept communication with Nimura, “He’s passed out, I think.” Hide pulled the bullets that acted as tranquilizers from his friend’s body and tossed them to the ground.

“His hands?” Nimura asked.

Hide, without mind to the black liquid and the blood, picked them up in his own and gingerly examined them. He breathed a sigh of relief himself, “They’re fine.” He didn’t know what had happened, but the question alone had told him enough to make assumptions.

“Good.”

Hide lifted Haise into a sitting position while watching Furuta attempt to sit up himself, “Your wounds are bad, Furuta.”

“I’ll be fine,” he coughed blood.

Hide snapped at his response, “Gods, you both piss me off so much! I’m getting you food. Hold Haise in case he wakes up.” He stood and moved Haise over so that Furuta could do as he asked. The way Furuta handled his brother- like he was glass- did not go unnoticed by the blonde.

After a final look, Hide left the room to find a cooperative doctor to help him.

Alone, Furuta spoke to Haise as he blinked tiredly as if trying to regain his vision, “Haise, we should go. This won’t end well.”

“Papa?” he asked, confused.

Furuta’s grip tightened and he nearly screamed in frustration, “Forget about him! He doesn’t love you!”

Haise shook his head as best he could in his state, “Nimu-nii, leave me behind. This is what I deserve.”

 

* * *

 

“How long have you allowed him to feed on you?”

Nimura was in a locked room as he was questioned by his father, “What are you saying?! That I did this?!” He had healed in only a few hours, miraculous by most standards, but he had been imprisoned in what appeared to be an interrogation room soon after, and he had been given no explanation as to why.

“Did you?” Arima could not comprehend what had happened. He did not understand how things had gone so awry- or when- or why.

“I-I had no idea. I just gave Haise what he wanted. Haise wanted to eat me. He enjoyed it.” Furtua stood suddenly, the chair he’d been sitting in clattering loudly to floor as it fell backward,  “Why aren’t you on my side?! I’ve done nothing wrong!”

“How long?” Arima had to know. This was all unknown territory, but these were his sons.

“I thought you cared about me!” Furuta snapped childishly, intent to murder in his eyes.

“Nimura-” Arima felt a part of himself dying, and it was an entirely new experience. He was sure that no amount of medicine could stop the spread of the pain he was feeling now.

“Haise hasn’t done anything wrong, either!”

“Nimura, calm down.” He needed it just as much as Nimura did.

Furuta saw some amount of pain, maybe even guilt, in his father’s eyes. It satisfied him. “. . . Since I’ve known him.”

Arima’s eyes bore straight into the other’s, “Nimura, it’s like poison. _You are poison to him._ He’s been poisoning himself since he was four?” Arima had never noticed. He’d never even-

“Please, stop! There’s next to nothing about cannibalizing in the textbooks. I didn’t know.”

Arima could not find if he was lying or not, so he tried to trust Nimura was speaking the truth, “While it’s true that there is little published on the matter, I will not accept excuses for you somehow not noticing the change in your brother.”

Furuta crossed his arms, remembering each time, every time, “ . . . he only took some . . . of me- each time.”

Arima swallowed back the ache in his chest, “Both of you will be punished. I can likely argue ignorance on behalf of-”

Nimura exploded, “Will _you_ be punished?!”

“Nimura . . .”

“ _You_ let it happen!”

Arima tried to find words, “I may be your father, but I am also a Special Class Investigator.”

“You’ve clearly shown which you prioritize.”

“I’m trying to help you,” Arima wasn’t sure who he was attempting to convince.

“ _Now_ you want to help?!”

He felt himself getting weaker, “Nimura . . . I know I’m not the best fath-”

“You were _never_ my father. Not even legally. I no more belong to you than a quinque or a stapler might!”

Arima pressed his palms flat to the table for support, “Nimura, stop this. You’re no longer a child.”

“I hate you! You failed Haise! You failed me, too, and then tried to blame me for it! I hate you!” There was a series of cracks, a crash, and then, nothing.

“Nimura!” He never raised his voice. But, it didn’t seem to matter. Nimura had run away. Arima had been left alone.

Like always, Nimura was dealing with his problems by simply trying to escape them altogether.

Arima had failed.

 

* * *

 

 

Two days later, Hide was finally able to meet with Haise again. He would be accompanying him back to Tokyo directly to the CCG Tokyo Branch Headquarters. They were alone, Haise in handcuffs, and they were sitting in the back of a CCG transport vehicle. Arima had insisted on driving. He’d since tried speaking to Haise, but Haise, after learning that Nimura was missing, had gone silent. He hadn’t talked to his father or anyone since.

But, he’d speak to Hide. Maybe that’s why his father had allowed Hide to see him and travel with them. Haise spoke in a whisper when they were alone. He knew he should have started with an apology, but he wasn’t ready to apologize just yet. “So,” he began while quietly looking at his hands-fingers new and slightly pale in comparison to the rest of his hand, “I’m too dangerous to be set free again. I’ll be joining you as an investigator on a rather tight leash after graduation. If I’m allowed to graduate . . . There is a Special Class meeting tomorrow at headquarters. They’re going to decide what happens to me. I might even just spend my senior year in Cochlea. It’s probably where I belong.” Haise had clearly been waiting to talk to Hide. Perhaps, if Nimura were still around, he would have spoken to him, but since he’d learned of his desertion, Haise had been waiting to confide in Hide alone.

“It doesn’t have to be-” Hide began gently.

“Don’t start.” Haise’s voice cut. He was not happy, clearly, but somehow it made Hide feel relieved. Even if he sounded angry; he sounded like _Haise_. “You were there. You’ve seen what I am.  . . . If I can learn to control that, I’ll be a great asset to the-”

Hide cut him off this time, _“You_ don’t start- You’re not a weapon.” He shifted in the back of the vehicle to face Haise, but Haise’s eyes refused to meet his.

“But I could be one . . .” he looked in the direction of the corner where the door met the roof of the car, but was clearly seeing something else entirely, “ . . . a very good one.” Finally, his eyes met Hide’s, and Hide’s heart sank when he saw how remorseful they were, “It means I could save lives.”

“And take them.” Hide cut in with reality. He didn’t want to be harsh with Haise, but he also didn’t want him thinking of himself as a tool to be used by the CCG. He changed his tone again to attempt to lighten the mood, “You won’t even kill bugs.”

It did nothing for Haise, who continued with a pained expression, looking away again, “I don’t have a _choice_ , Hide. I’m trying to make a positive out of this.”

“I don’t think that’s true.” Hide put his hands over Haise’s carefully as if touching a frightened rabbit.

Haise pulled away and turned his body away from Hide, practically pressing himself into the door of the car, “I don’t know what world you’re living in, but it isn’t mine. I’m a _ghoul_ -” and then he scoffed, self-hatred dripping from his words, “-even worse, an _incestuous cannibal_. The only reason I haven’t been killed is because of Papa. Maybe the same for Nimura. I don’t know.”

Haise went silent. He was thinking of his brother.

This was all his fault.

Hide didn’t reach for him again, but he hoped his words would, “I’m here, Haise. I always will be.

Haise still refused to look at him, “Yeah, thanks.” There was only one thing he wanted from Hide now; he wanted him to just _give up_.

There was a long silence. Haise had sunk inside his own mind again and lost track of time.

“Haise-”

The half-ghoul turned to look at his oldest friend, “Yes?”

“You deserve the world.”

The half-ghoul turned back around, smiling. He responded in a sing-song voice, “Heard that one before.”

Hide shook his head and responded under his breath, “. . . You sound like your brother.”

Haise pretended not to hear. “Good thing you don’t make the decisions.”

“Why?”

Haise looked out the window, eyes searching for something they’d never find, “I’m not so sure I’d treat it well.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Where you at, Nimu-nii?


	24. Chapter 24

 A month later, Nimura used his house key to open the front door of the apartment he had been living in with Arima and Haise. Nimura had already checked Haise’s school; he’d been withdrawn. He’d visited briefly with Tsukiyama only to hear that Haise was supposedly hired within the CCG. It had been clear that Tsukiyama had wanted to tell Nimura more, but Nimura had walked away, disinterested. That same evening, he’d watched Arima go home alone from the CCG to their apartment which meant that Haise wasn’t working with him. Now, he didn’t know what to believe, but he refused to visit Hide and inquire there.

Instead, he’d speak with Arima directly which was why he’d opted to return to what most closely resembled the idea of _home_. He couldn’t imagine what his punishment would be for leaving, despite the fact that he’d returned. No matter what the consequence would be, it’d be tolerable if it meant seeing Haise again.

He paused in the doorway and, after flipping the name plate beside the door and removing his shoes to put on his house slippers that had been waiting likely since his absence over a month ago, he walked into the living room.

Arima was in the dining room eating alone at a table set for three. He did not look up from his plate as Nimura walked inside with his house slippers wearing the same thing he’d left in- though it appeared to be sewn and repaired since.

“You came back.” Arima spoke first.

Nimura sat down in the place he always sat which was across from Arima. Haise sat on the left side of the table between them. He wasn’t there this evening, but the empty plate and silverware were waiting for him as though Arima expected him any minute.

“You’re surprised.” Nimura didn’t ask a question. He observed his pretend father clearly enough; he hadn’t thought that he would ever return after what had happened yet he had been _hoping_ \- the empty plate in front of Nimura was evidence enough. Nimura knew himself to be a despicably low person, but he wasn’t _that_ cowardly. “Arima, I want to see Haise.”

Arima finally looked at him. His eyes were empty and unforgiving. He looked like nothing at all; he was this family and this family had since fallen apart. “Nimura, you defected.” There was nothing in his words, either, and it annoyed Nimura. He wished, for once, to see Arima _break_.

Nimura laughed, falling back on the last two legs of his chair, “No, no, no, you misunderstood! I took a little vacation; that’s all! What a terribly traumatic experience- _Arima Kishou_ coming after me with the intent to kill!” He didn’t say his _father_ , but that’s what Arima heard. It had been a month but he had not forgotten that he had raised a weapon against his own sons; he would not forget it, because he knew, if it came to that, he’d do it again.

Arima sighed. He was not amused. If anything, he felt disappointed. He continued eating in silence.

Nimura landed the front legs of his chair suddenly, slamming his flat palms onto the table to cause his and Haise’s empty dishes to clatter sharply, “ _Let me see him._ ” He wasn’t smiling anymore; he was glaring. Didn’t Arima understand anything?

“He is fine.”

“You’re lying. If he were _fine_ , he’d be _here_ , with _you_ , having _dinner_.” Nimura’s voice was thick with oil; a single match could set it aflame.

Arima didn’t argue.

Nimura’s words dripped hot and black and crude, “You’re disgusting. You’re nothing but a slave to the CCG. And, you want to turn Haise into one, too.” His expression changed. He tented his fingers over his empty plate and smiled,  “I hate you.”

“This, I have not forgotten.”

There was a long silence between them as Arima finished his meal. Arima was doing everything he could to keep his sons safe. Now that Nimura was back, he’d have the chance to keep him safe, too. He didn’t want to lose him, but he did want him to make a decision. “What do you plan to do?”

“I want to see Haise.” He tucked soft, black hair behind his ear and rested his chin in the palm of his hand while his elbows dug into the table. Nimura wanted more than that, but it was up to Haise whether or not he’d get it.

Arima wiped his mouth though there’d been nothing to clean. He finished his water. He paused, and then he finally looked across the table- his expression, blank, “Then you, Nimura, will become one, too.”

Nimura rolled his eyes, “A slave? Tch.”

Arima was wrong. He already was one.

 

* * *

 

 

Haise Sasaki, SS ranked ghoul, was being kept in Cochlea for an undetermined amount of time. He was kept in a cell with a bed and a small desk to study. During the morning hours, he would train with his father, Arima Kishou, and in the afternoon, he would study. In the night, he’d have dreams of harsh lights, needles, scalpels, and antiseptic, and in the morning, he’d wake up drowsy- never refreshed. And so the days went by. And so the months would wear on.

That morning, he’d felt particularly out of sorts. He’d had a dream that his limbs had been severed and reattached, and he had struggled to put them back on one at a time, but when he’d woken up, they were all there, seemingly unharmed. He felt sore, but he attributed that to Arima’s training; he always felt sore no matter how many times his muscles recovered.

Arima arrived at his cell with a look of disapproval. He’d expected to see Haise awake and ready, but he was still lying in bed.

“Haise-”

“Papa-”

They’d spoken at the same time.

The half-ghoul already knew what Arima was going to say, so he went ahead, “Papa, how long will I be here?” It had been a month. Haise worried he’d never be released.

“Until you are ready,” Arima replied.

“I decide that?” Haise didn’t hide his surprise; there had to be more to it than that.

“You do.” And his tone changed, “Haise, do you think you are ready?”

“No, Papa,” he said quietly. Haise understood that much. He was still sick in his mind, and he still didn’t understand his body.

Arima agreed. What he told Haise wasn’t entirely true, but it wasn’t false, either. He was in control of his actions, his speech, his mannerisms. As soon as he realized the right way to act, to speak, and to conduct himself, he would be deemed as _ready_ to return to society and _fit_ to become an investigator. It was not something Arima could teach him. Haise was too kind, however, so he wondered if Haise would _ever_ learn.

Arima could only teach him how to protect himself, “Haise, we’re picking up where we left off yesterday. Get dressed.”

Haise quietly voiced a complaint, “Papa, I’m tired of fighting.”

Arima distracted him, “Nimura came back.” He knew that he’d go easy on Haise if Haise tried hard enough.

Haise stood and went to the door of the cell, “Nimu-nii? He’s okay?”

“He rejoined the CCG.”

“That can’t be right.” Haise was careful not to touch the quinque metal bars.

Arima said nothing, so Haise pressed on, “What is his punishment?”

“It is not for me to decide, but he said he would accept it.”

Haise’s eyes widened slightly in disbelief, “He would _accept_ any punishment?”

“Not in so many words, but yes, he has no other choice.”

The half-ghoul turned his back to his father and walked back to his bed to sit, falling inside himself. “It’s my fault.”

Arima watched silently how the voices in Haise’s head overtook his thoughts. He did not know how to help him. He motioned for the guard to open the door and it electronically slid open for him to walk through. He stood in front of his son, “It is no one’s fault.” Haise had to arch his neck nearly all the way back to look into his eyes. The reaper placed a gentle hand on his son’s head and smoothed his hair before giving a quiet command, “Stand up.”

“Yes, Papa.”

 

* * *

 

 

When Haise was finally released, he’d become the perfect investigator. He smiled brilliantly, though his eyes were empty of warmth, and he hugged his father upon seeing him for the first time outside of Cochlea in nearly five months, “Hello Papa, it’s nice to see you.” Arima awkwardly wrapped his arms around his son. He knew something in Haise had been lost in the last five months, but he was too lost, himself, to understand what it was.

“Nimura-nii, it’s nice to see you, too,” and without warming, Haise hugged him as well. Nimura allowed it, but he didn’t respond how he would were they alone. He could see that something was missing in Haise’s eyes as well. He would be happy to see Haise again if he weren’t so angry with Arima for letting it all happen.

“And Hide? Hey, long time no see.” Haise’s grin didn’t falter as he initiated their secret handshake.

Once they’d completed their greeting, Hide breathed his apology, “They wouldn’t let me visit you.” It was clear that he’d tried everything.

Haise waved it off. “Of course not. I was pretty busy, anyway- training and all. I’m ready for the force now, though. I start next week when my uniform comes in.”

Hide blinked, “Wow, that’s fast! Aren’t you going to finish sch-”

“Don’t be ridiculous-” Haise laughed hollowly, “I’ve missed so much that it would be impossible to make up for it. I would have to apply for re-entry next year. It’s not worth it. I can graduate through the cadet program with the CCG just as easily.”

“Yeah, sure, of course.” Hide was smiling, but he was heartbroken. This wasn’t what Haise wanted at all; he was dismissing the things that made him happy with such ease. What had happened in the last five months?

Arima stole Haise’s attention away using the tone he had when they’d trained, “I’ll be with you in the field the first two months, Haise, as a trial period.”

“Great! Got it! I look forward to working with you, Papa,” and he laughed again. No one there was buying it, but everyone there understood.

“Haise-” Nimura held his breath when his brother turned to look at him. It had been nearly half a year since he’d seen him; it was the longest amount of time they’d ever been apart.

Nimura noticed his brother hadn’t been sleeping; there were bags under his eyes that made him look older than he was. He also noticed he had gray hairs. There were only a few, but it was enough to be noticeable.

As his eyes continued to study the changes in Haise, Arima and Hide watched. Their father had his suspicions, still, but it was up to Haise now if there would be further consequences for their actions. He could see that much. Nimura had already been punished. Arima was not allowed details, but a month’s stay within research was enough to know it was far beyond his imagination.

“Hmm?” Haise blinked gray eyes curiously, innocently even.

Hide watched Nimura. He knew that Haise was still suffering, but not like he had been. Not just Nimura himself, but their relationship, too- everything Haise mixed himself up in with Nimura was poison. There were times Hide couldn’t help but wonder how much better Haise’s world would be if his brother were dead.

Nimura felt their eyes. They were all waiting. They were waiting for him to screw up. They were waiting to jump in and protect their precious Haise from his terrible, evil brother. Nimura breathed again and laughed as he placed his palm flat, parallel to the ground, to measure Haise’s height against his own, “Hahaha, you grew a few centimeters, didn’t you?”

Haise returned the laughter beside him, “No way! Did I?”

There was nothing to see. Haise had apparently made his choice.

 

* * *

 

 

It was two weeks later, after Haise’s first kill, that Nimura made an effort to finally be alone with him. Haise was ultimately a gentle person, but he had taken another life now. His brother knew it would be the beginning of something horrific if Haise could not forgive himself and accept the ways of the world he’d entered into.

Nimura had finally gotten his own apartment and invited his brother over to dinner. Haise had accepted, but only after Nimura had sworn up and down that the meat was from the CCG.

Nimura had sighed in disapproval when they’d hung up; wasn’t it clear that the CCG couldn’t be trusted? How naive was Haise? Even now?

It was raining outside, but Nimura left his curtains open. The sky was several shades darker than it should have been at seven in the evening. Haise spent a lot more time looking out the window of the sixth-floor apartment to see the sky than he did looking at his brother.

They cleaned up together, and, after reminding Haise of a funny occurrence between them and their father, he’d been able to make Haise laugh. It came out in a melody, and it made Nimura wonder when was the last time Haise had laughed honestly.

“Haise,” Nimura whispered gently as his brother smiled at the plate he was drying.

“Hm?” The half-ghoul looked up just in time to receive his brother's kiss on his lips, gentle and familiar. It had been so long, and, inside, Haise felt a familiar and terrifying hunger within him as he tasted his brother's lips.

There was a hand suddenly on Nimura’s shoulder, and Haise gently pushed him away. Though there was the lightest shade of pink in his cheeks, Haise’s expression was stern, his eyes narrowed slightly, “Stop, Nimura, I’m not interested in that anymore.”

“Oh?” The sincerity Nimura had in his voice, his expression, his kiss, was gone instantly, and in place of it, he wore his clown mask.

“We’re not kids anymore. It’s wrong.”

Nimura gave a pout as he handed over a glass, “Says who?”

Haise took the glass and looked away with a sigh, “You’re such a child.”

“And what’s wrong with that?” Nimura turned off the water and leaned over the sink to look up at his brother.

Haise regarded him with blank disapproval which only lead Nimura to wonder if he’d been taking lessons from their father.

“Fine, but the offer never expires.” He straightened and stretched before drying his hands.

“You should take your work more seriously,” Haise reasoned.

Nimura watched his brother struggle over the likely rehearsed lines. What had the CCG done to him? Would things only get worse? Sincerity returned to his voice, but it was not out of concern; it came out as a threat, “You were never meant to play the games adults play, Haise.”

“Thank you for dinner,” Haise dropped the towel on the counter and walked out.

Nimura watched him go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your patience. T-T


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They're finally talking to each other?!  
> Head's up, Nimura is going to seem waaaay out of character in some of this mostly because of the time he has spent alone. So, sorry in advance! OTL

 

It took another month and a half before Haise fell back into old habits. Nimura was careful, but always cooperative.

The first time was after Haise’s first raid. It had been his last assignment with his father, and, truth be told, it was a test of sorts. Arima needed to know he had the endurance, the stamina, and the right mentality for the job; he needed to know that he could trust Haise to remain focused no matter what his assignment was or how long he was in combat. Haise had gone through the underground passages of a ward to rid the tunnels of ghouls in hiding. It was a slaughter without regard to age or gender. He’d fought for so long and had killed so many, that by the end of it, he wasn’t sure whose blood drenched his clothes. His own smelled the same as that of his victims, and if he weren’t so exhausted, he would have found poetry in that. They’d told him, in his nightmares during his stay in Cochlea, that he was not different. He was not special. He was only a ghoul.

Smelling and tasting as he did now, he felt sure they were right. He belonged in the tunnel with the dead. It was only thanks to his father and the CCG that he could walk among the living and imitate the life of a human.

After his father congratulated him, Haise felt himself smile. He’d become exactly what the CCG wanted, and in that moment, he could only smile in the face of his own death. He understood what was needed of him, and he met those needs. It didn’t matter what he wanted; this was his new reality. If he wanted to live his life as more than what he truly was, he had to play his part.

Haise returned to headquarters and washed the blood from his skin and hair, but his nails never appeared clean. He flossed several times, but he could still feel something stuck between his teeth. No matter what he did to cover the scent of death- soap, deodorant, cologne- he could only smell the screams on his skin as he’d taken the lives of the ghouls already living in homes made of graves.

Haise realized then that he’d finally gone numb. He didn’t like it.

 

* * *

 

“Haise?” Nimura flipped the light switch of his apartment bedroom with visible concern, walked over to the lump in bed, and pulled back the sheet. He so very rarely saw his brother now, so finding him lying in his bed beneath the sheet and curled around a pillow was surprising. It wasn’t the least bit unwelcome, however, even if it was nearly one in the morning.

Haise moaned, slowly waking from a dream, and gave a whine as he struggled to open his eyes.

Understanding quickly, Nimura turned the light off overhead, walked back to the bedside table, and turned on the small square lantern to color the room with a healthy, quiet glow.

Haise stretched and sat up, rubbing his eyes, and immediately sought contact in his brother by reaching for his hands. Furuta allowed it and, with his hands now in Haise’s, he sat beside his brother on the edge of the bed so that they could be closer. Haise said nothing, but as Nimura inched closer to him, it was clear that something inside him was stirring as his eyes appeared more alert and the gray depths appeared to darken with need.

“Haise?”

The one in question leaned over and rested his forehead on his brother’s shoulder, his lips resting in the crook of his neck to grace the crisp white collar of the uniform. He removed Nimura’s gloves in silence by touch alone and allowed them to drop to the floor.

“I’m sorry.”

After that, neither of them moved for a long while. Haise was on the edge of a pit- a hole that led him back in time to repeat the same mistakes again and again. He could see the future. He knew what would happen should he continue, but he felt like this was the only thing that could help him understand the disconnection he now had with the present- or at least, so he thought.

Nimura gently pulled Haise away, and he registered that his little brother was struggling when he saw his expression.

“I’ll make it easier for you,” Nimura smiled, but not because he was laughing at Haise. He freed his own hands and gently caressed his brother’s cheek.

The expression Nimura wore caused Haise’s expression to change to one of confusion as his eyes widened slightly at what appeared to be his brother’s genuine warmth.

Without any other warning, Nimura lowered and turned his head to meet his brother’s lips in a gentle kiss.

Haise sighed into the warmth and immediately sought to close any distance between them as he slowly opened his mouth let his brother in. He did not realize Nimura could be so gentle, and he did not realize it was what he wanted. He just hoped it lasted. Haise was scared of being with his brother in any way, shape, or form; the nightmares in Cochlea had made certain he’d be adverse to even being in his presence regardless of the pain he already felt from his past mistakes.

Had the same happened to Nimura?

Their kisses continued, but when Haise reached for his brother’s hands, he felt that they were shaking uncontrollably. Haise led them to hold his waist.

_Is it because I’ve hurt you?_

It was too late. Haise had jumped into the pit and pulled his brother down with him. Nimura didn’t deserve this but he was pulling him down anyway. Nimura seemed to smile as he sunk lower, his searching hands ceasing their tremor.

They were _starving_ for one another.

Nimura broke the kiss and leaned his head back to expose his neck remembering exactly what the other half-ghoul most enjoyed.

Haise kissed the cream, white exposed skin above his brother’s collar slowly, gently, tasting the salt of sweat and something sweet. He didn’t bite; he was too scared to. They shouldn’t have come together like this. It wasn’t safe.

Nimura ran his fingers up and down Haise’s back in an effort to soothe him. He could feel the tension rising between them, and he wondered what Cochlea had been like for his dearest Haise. He knew it was a chance, and that everything could be ended in this moment, but Nimura took it anyway. As he continued to attempt to soothe Haise’s nerves with gentle hands down his back, Nimura bit into his bottom lip enough to draw blood.

Haise felt his mind go blank and saw his vision go white, his mouth drawn blindly to the sweet taste of his brother’s blood. He pounced, causing Nimura to fall back into his bed with Haise over him. Animalistically, Haise licked at the blood of his brother’s lip, his hands reaching to either side of Nimura’s head, fingers sinking into his hair to hold his head still while he licked and sucked and tasted.

Nimura hadn’t expected Haise to act so desperately, but he felt that it was working to overcome his fears. Nimura’s own were more difficult to address. His trembling fingers worked at the buttons of Haise’s shirt through touch alone.

He felt his lip heal, and, as if flipping a switch, Haise pulled away suddenly, his hands separating them in protest, “Stop. I told you to stop. I don’t want this. We have to stop.” He was panting slightly, his cheeks were red, and his kakugan was exposed. It was enough to quiet Furuta’s own fears.

Nimura worked at his own clothing and kept his voice light- not judgemental- not accusatory, “You do, though. You’re lying to me and to yourself most of all. _This,_ ” he accentuated the word by placing a finger over Haise’s lips that were pink and parted, “is why you’re here.” He removed his own tie, jacket, shirt, and undershirt as he continued speaking, “This is why you broke into my apartment and waited for me in my bed. This is why your whole body is trembling in desire for me.” He leaned across the bed to kiss Haise again, but Haise moved back and put his hands up to separate them again. He looked at his fingers on his brother’s bare chest. He could remember tearing into with his teeth- once, twice, three times. He winced. There was no evidence of what Haise had done to him in the past as if it had all been erased and forgotten. Haise couldn’t forget, however, and he didn’t want to; he reminded himself daily of what he’d once done. He’d been so selfish. He’d hurt his brother- _used_ him. And, he had used Hide, too. He’d put his father in pain, and he’d taken advantage of Tsukiyama’s kindness. He’d let a lot of people down when he’d withdrawn from the competition. Inside him was something _evil_. A part of him was _evil_. He felt it every day, but he was crippled by it only now- only when he was in the presence of his brother. He’d thought he would have been fine two months ago when he’d come to dinner, but even then, he’d walked out, too scared of what he might do if he stayed.

“Nimura, please,” Haise pleaded with his whole being. The numbness he’d felt only hours prior was long gone and forgotten. Nimura had healed him in minutes. But, what would be the cost? “It’s wrong,” Haise added weakly, not looking at him but not moving his hands away, either, “I shouldn’t have come.”

Nimura was certain that this was the most alive he’d felt since Haise had been taken from him. He took Haise’s left hand from his chest and led his fingers up to his mouth, “Tell me why it’s wrong.” He wrapped his tongue around his brother’s middle and index finger and took them gently into his mouth, sliding them out long and slow.

“Ghouls cannot eat other ghouls.” He repeated their father’s words as he watched his brother. He was slipping again, despite his words, and he was scared and thrilled at the same time. Euphoria was an addicting feeling, and he felt it only with Nimura.

“They hurt you, didn’t they? In Cochlea? Is that why you’ve avoided me?”

Haise felt his eyes begin to sting as his brother gently kissed his fingertips and trailed kisses to his palm. Haise wanted to scream at him to stop. It was more than what they’d done in Cochlea; it was his past mistakes, too! Didn’t Nimura realize he became something else when they joined? Nimura nosed his palm gently and kissed it again. Haise could recall that Nimura had had brief moments of gentleness, but never anything like this. Haise could only liken the experience to worship. Had Nimura missed him just as much as he’d missed him?

“They told me the same thing in Cochlea. They tried to drill it into my head,” Nimura whispered. Haise felt a tear slip from his left eye. It was unclear whether that had been literal or not. He moved his right hand to wipe at the tear quickly. He didn’t want to anger his brother; his brother hated his tears. “But they don’t care about your happiness, Haise, only how they can use you.”

Haise shook his head, repeating what he’d been taught to be true but also what he remembered, “Your blood is like a drug. I was addicted. That’s why I had to stay so long in Cochlea. I-” Haise was shaking with desire, but he could feel a headache coming. There were too many conflicting thoughts in his head. He had to go; he couldn’t stay! But he needed this, Nimura, his taste, his affections- everything. His whole body screamed for it, but he kept his lips sealed tight. He didn’t want to use him; isn’t that what he’d end up doing if they continued? He’d never stop?

“They fed you that as well?” Nimura let go of his hand and moved his own beneath Haise’s undershirt to pull it over his head. Haise complied and when the last article of clothing was gone from his chest, Nimura turned his body and pressed into him, pinning Haise between the wall and himself while swallowing his small protests in a kiss.

When it finally broke, Haise gasped as he tried to verbalize his thoughts, “It affects my brain. I can’t think . . .” Haise’s eyes were wide, unshed tears turning his right eye into a glassy moonlit pool and his left into an empty, watery tomb. His hands struggled with Nimura’s flesh as he pushed their bodies apart but yet refused to let go of him, “I lose sight of everything else. I-” He wanted Nimura so badly, but he knew it was his hunger more than anything. His headache was only growing worse. The affection was driving him over the edge, but the promise of flesh and blood was keeping him there. It was wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. His hunger was wrong.

“Are you sure that’s all due to my taste?” Nimura kissed him deeply, “Or it is something else?” _That_ was Nimura’s hope, even if it would never quite come to pass, he would not complain. As long as Haise _wanted_ him, it didn’t matter really what for. Seven months without him, and all Nimura wanted was to have him back and keep him- no matter how.

“Nimu-nii-” Haise wasn’t sure what he was saying, but he could feel himself slipping even further away. Haise whined as he felt teeth graze his own neck. He wanted to reciprocate the action so badly.

“Ahh, it’s been some time since you’ve called me that- with that pleading tone- those parted lips-” Nimura’s dark eyes appeared to relax further as his eyelids fell half closed. “My dear Haise . . .”

Haise’s eyes mimicked his brother’s and he felt himself relax into his touch. Any more, and he’d be completely at the mercy of one of them- Nimura or his own desires- he wasn’t sure. “I want-”

“Tell me, Haise. What is it you really want?”

It was then that something inside Arima Haise broke. “I miss you.” He felt the tears begin and the stress behind his eyes begin to ease.

Nimura held him wordlessly watching the tears fall from his little brother’s eyes. No, not now! Not now! Not now! Not now!

Haise freed himself from his brother and immediately began wiping his face messily as the tears fell, “I want-I want to be happy again with you and father.”

Nimura laughed, “When were we ever happy?” He waved it away, smiling from ear to ear. He was literally amused at this turn of events.

Haise understood. It meant that all those times where they were all smiling together, Nimura was lying. All the times in which Haise was happy and Nimura and their father were at his side, his brother wasn’t happy. Haise was such an ignorant and naive fool, and he had always been one. Even now. Even after what he’d done. Even after he ended up here again. Even as he watched himself slip into his most damaged, vulnerable self. Haise tried not to cry harder, “I’m sorry, Nimu-nii. I don’t want to keep hurting you.” He tried, but he couldn’t stop crying. “I thought we understood each other, but I-”

Nimura summoned every bit of patience he had to remain gentle and soft, “No, you were _never_ wrong. Never. You haven’t hurt me. _I swear it._ ”

Haise’s tears would not stop as Nimura supported his head gently with one hand and wiped tears away with his thumb with the other, “I don’t want to use you!! I can’t use you like I did before. Nimu-nii, it was wrong. I’ll lose my mind again. I’ll hurt you- and father. I’ll destroy everything I love.”

“I wanted all of it, so you can’t say that, Haise. Don’t take that away from me. You weren’t using me.”

Haise shut his eyes tightly to free them of tears and to hide from the emotions playing across his brother’s face. He said slowly, “This is what I deserve.  . . . These last seven months without you.” He slowly opened his eyes and continued, “I hurt you, I did, and I used you, and I don’t want to go back to that but I will- if I keep-” his hands reached for either side of his brother’s face to hold his gaze and to caress his cheeks, “-because I want you so badly, Nimu-nii. And after everything, I don’t think-I don’t think I understand it- my hunger, my feelings for you- what I'm doing. The hunger . . . for you . . . it never goes away.” Haise had stopped crying, and he was grateful he’d done so without Nimura retaliating.

Nimura’s eyes widened. He hadn’t expected this, not in the slightest.

Haise looked away before his eyes found his brother’s once more, “I-I don’t think I can ever give you what you want.” A romantic relationship? It was what Haise assumed his brother wanted of him. He never, not once, had told him he loved him, but he’d said so much around it and had done so much in its name.

“I just want you to be with me,” Nimura spoke quietly, honestly, his eyes searching his brother’s mismatched ones.

“I learned to control it better, but it’s always there,” Haise moved out of Nimura’s grasp and withdrew his hands.

“Haise?” He couldn’t let it be over. Furuta wouldn’t let it be over. Not so soon. Not now. It had been seven months.

“They said that there’s a monster inside me. If I’m not careful, it will swallow me up.” Haise was staring at the lantern on the nightstand. He felt grateful that Nimura wasn’t touching him.

“What are you talking about?” Nimura reached for him, but Haise knocked his hands away.

“It’s evil. It will destroy everything.” He wrapped his own arms around himself.

“Haise?” Nimura moved closer in the bed towards the wall where there should have been a headboard but he’d been too lazy to purchase one. He respectfully kept his hands to himself.

“So, I have to stay away from you.” Haise didn’t look away from the lantern.

“Why? They told you that?” Nimura didn’t understand, but he could remember the horror. He could recall the cherry black liquid that seeped from Haise’s skin like acid.

“It wants you most of all.” Haise was trembling again.

Nimura reached for him again and wrapped his arms around him tightly in an embrace to keep him from breaking. “Haise?”

Haise shook his head, “Please, I don’t want to hurt anyone, but it’s so hard to control . . . every day . . . especially in front of Papa. And, especially here with you. I remember your taste. I remember how I felt taking you into me.” Haise spread his legs without thinking, but Nimura did not bring it to his attention by moving between them.

Nimura began to pepper kisses on his brother’s skin anywhere his lips could reach, “Haise, please stop hurting yourself. They’re lying to you. There is no monster. There is only you, and you could never do anything evil. You’re perfect.”

“I’m not.”  Haise held back new tears. In a way, his brother was scaring him, too. He’d never been so kind before. Why was he acting so kind?

Nimura looked him square in the eyes and said with finality, “You are everything that is good in me. Please don’t take that from me.” With that, he grabbed for the dagger still strapped beneath his pant leg and cut at the skin above his collar bone.

Haise shook his head in horror, his mouth salivating immediately in hunger and thirst. “Nimu-nii, I won’t stop.”

Nimura dropped the dagger off the side of the bed  and pulled Haise closer to him until his lips were at his chest, “Then don’t stop.”

Haise felt new tears in his eyes and he weakly pushed away, “You can’t do this again.” His body trembling, his desire had taken over as the scent of blood filled him, “I-I don’t want to do this again.”

“Don’t listen to them, Haise. You can have anything you want.” Nimura felt Haise go completely still before he felt teeth and tongue on his open wound. Nimura went on,“You can take anything you want. You can be anything you want.” He put his hands behind Haise to support him, one on his lower back and one cradling his head as he ate. “I don’t know what bullshit they tried to brainwash you with, but you’re perfect, and you’re mine.” Haise emitted a low growl and forced his brother onto his back. Nimura held no fear. “We’re each other’s. You are the kind of chaos that’s necessary to change this world.” Nimura worked at Haise’s pants to free his length and wrapped a hand around him when he reached it.

Haise pulled away. There was blood on his lips, around his mouth, and dripping down his chin. “I don’t know what you’re saying, Nimu-nii- ah-ah-Gods, I’ve missed this,” Haise leaned his head back and moaned from the sensation. It was unclear if he meant the blood on his lips of the hand on his cock, but Nimura didn’t care. In this moment, Haise needed him, wanted him, and that’s what mattered.

Nimura was in pain, but it amounted to nothing to see Haise enter that familiar euphoric state.

Haise moved Nimura’s hand away so he could remove his pants, and as soon as they were disposed of off the side of the bed, he removed Nimura’s as well. Haise sank into his brother, their flesh coming together warm and wanting. He licked at the stray rivulets of blood, and then he went back to his meal.

Nimura’s hands traveled, as the other half-ghoul lay on top of him. One traced gentle and reassuring circles on his back and the other got lost in his hair, gently urging him to eat his fill no matter the cost. “I’m saying I’m yours. I’m reminding you this world is yours. ‘ _I’ll always be yours.’_ You told me that once. You’ve told me you love me, Haise, but I wonder now, after these seven months we have been apart, do you still?”

“I can feel it,” Haise moaned, “beneath my skin-” He rolled his hips against his Nimura.

Nimura had had quite enough of Haise’s restraint. He turned them over and sat up, sitting on his brother with his legs spread without a hint of shyness, “Quit fearing it.” He watched Haise’s chest rise and fall and he grabbed for his hands, “Just accept it. It’s scary, but it’s only you.” He kissed his fingers as he went on, “It’s not bad, or evil, or wrong.” He let them go and moved above him to kiss him, “You’re a good person, Haise, better than most of us.” Nimrua tasted his own blood on Haise’s lips. His own kakugan emerged. He didn’t want to taste his brother, but he knew it would encourage him further, so he let his mouth wander downward, clenched his teeth on the flesh of Haise’s neck, felt his brother’s breathing hitch, and then tore through the skin.

“Ahhh-” Haise became a trembling captive to his own desires.

Nimura didn’t say a word as he ate at his brother’s flesh and touched him in all the right places, but Haise had been reduced to begging overcome with the need for everything that was promised in his brother’s flesh.

Euphoric. They moved together. They fed on one another. They lost sight of where one of them began and the other ended. They reunited and returned to the sin that had previously destroyed them.

When they were done, Haise spoke like he did before, low, powerful, and relaxed, “Nimu-nii, I’m not going to use you like back then. This won’t happen again.”

Nimura felt himself liberated. He’d gotten Haise back; he knew his little brother well enough to know this would happen again and again and again. “Even if it did, I don’t care,” he assured him. “Even if you were using me, which you aren’t, what does it matter?”

“They’ll hurt us, won’t they?” There is no sign of fear in Haise.

“Not if we’re careful,” Nimura mused.

Haise gathered Nimura in his arms. They were both still bleeding and wounded, and even as they healed, they’d made a mess enough to make Nimura’s bedroom appear to be a murder scene. “That’s why it won’t happen again. We have to be careful.” He kissed his brother softly on the head, “I want to protect you- not endanger you.”

Nimura’s voice was just short of a pout, “I don’t need your protection.”

“But you need me, still, don’t you? I just don’t understand for what.” Haise was not comfortable with the idea anymore. He cared deeply for his brother, but his affections had been mistaken-misplaced. He needed his brother as he needed family . . . and _food_ , if he was being honest.

And that was fine to Nimura, who needed Haise for . . . _everything_ , “It’s better that you don’t.”

They sat there, Haise leaning against the wall with his arms around Nimura as they healed. The silence carried for several minutes until Haise whispered quietly, “This was a mistake.”

“My life is a mistake,” Nimura chuckled.

Haise narrowed his eyes in the dimly lit room and replied defiantly, “Then, mine is, too.”

“If that’s the case, you’re the mistake the world needs.”

Haise shook his head. There was nothing in Nimura’s words. He couldn’t read them. Was he being serious? Joking? What was he trying to say? Had something changed in these last seven months, and if so, what was it? “Why?” Haise wasn’t sure of the right question to ask to lead him to the answer he wanted, “Why are you- why do you think so highly of me?”

“Is that what it is?”

“Nimu-nii . . . I’m sorry . . . ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> But what does it mean?!
> 
> Ah, I hope the lacking detail in the hot and steamy stuff wasn't disappointing.


End file.
